Cuckoo
by Blu3 Wat3rs
Summary: Fifteen-year-old Michelle Webster has had enough of her little brother and his awful tricks. When she tries to get revenge by messing with her father's cuckoo clock, she accidentally falls back in time, with only one way to get out. Can she beat the cuckoo clock's terrible curse? Story requested by retro mania
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone!**

 **So, you may all be wondering, "Lia...what the hell? You haven't even updated your "Bloodlust" fic, why are you posting another Goosebumps fic?"**

 **Well, my lovely vamps, this fic was a request from "retro mania".**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom. Also, I used the book as a guideline (which explains the short chapters). This fic is going to be similar to the book with a few things from the episode added in there. However, there are going to be some other little twists that retro mania and I added on our own. The idea for this fic belongs to the fanfiction user, retro mania, I simply wrote it out (but I did add a couple of little things myself).**

 **I hope you guys enjoy!**

Chapter 1

"Michelle, you've got something in your hair."

My 11 year old brother, Tommy, grinned up at me as he sat on the porch steps. I knew what that grin meant: trouble.

But I know better. He just wants me to freak out about my hair. He's done this trick before: he says I have something in my hair, he volunteers to take it out, only to grab onto my hair and yank as hard as he can.

"Yeah, right. I'm not falling for it again," I said, going up the step and into the house.

I was just getting home from school, and I was hoping that Mother was already making dinner. I was starving and I had a rough day. Tommy usually gets home before me, since I stay after school for drama practice.

The walk home is usually the only peace I ever get, since Tommy isn't around to ruin it.

When it comes to pranks or tricks, he just doesn't know when to quit.

Like right now.

"I'm serious. You've got something in your hair," Tommy insisted as he followed me into the house. "It's a gross, nasty bug!"

"Knock it off Tommy, I'm not in the mood," I said. But just to be sure, I glanced at the large mirror in the hallway. You could never be too careful when Tommy is around.

There was nothing there, at first. However, there was a slight movement around the top of my head. I reached up and pulled out a spider. Shrieking, I threw it out of my hand and gagged.

I heard Tommy let out a cackle. He knew I wouldn't believe him.

Tricked by Tommy the Terrible again.

"You put that there, didn't you?" I snapped.

Tommy kept giggling, his dark eyes glinting. "No I didn't. Maybe a bird dropped on your head after mistaking your hair for its nest!"

I narrowed my eyes and dove at him. He ducked and ran, making me miss. I didn't give up though, and I chased him into the kitchen.

"I'm gonna make you eat that spider!" I yelled, and jumped at him. Tommy dodged me again, and ran behind our mother. I landed against the kitchen table, the edge digging painfully into my hip.

"Mom, Michelle wants to hit me!" Tommy whined, using his special little boy voice.

I scowled, knowing that my mother would fall for his fake innocent tone. Even if I did catch him, I knew that he wasn't really scared of me. It was all an act.

"Michelle Webster! Stop threatening your brother!" Mother scolded. "And what did you say about a spider? Are you trying to scare your brother with one? You know better than to be bringing bugs into the house!"

"Tommy put it on my head!" I complained.

Mother shook her head. "Michelle, you're taller than Tommy. How would he reach the top of your head to do that?"

"But Mother-"

"Go do your homework. And stop bullying your little brother!" Mother said.

Tommy grinned his nasty grin from behind her. I glared in return before I turned and stormed up to my room. I ran my hand through my hair one last time before I went into my room.

This is how it's always been since Tommy was born. I always get into trouble for things that he does and I always get into awful situations when he's around. There's nothing about Tommy that doesn't bug me. And it especially irritates me when people compare us.

They say we look alike, but I doubt it. He's got a pale complexion than I do, while my skin is darker. He's got dark, curly hair, while my own dark hair is straight. He's really skinny, as if he never eats, while I'm on the athletic side. The only same thing we really have is our eyes: dark brown with thick dark lashes. But even then, I don't think they're the same. That's because there is a difference between our eyes, which is that he has this evil little glint to them. And he's got this habit of biting his lips, which makes his lips turn red all the time and he looks like he's wearing bright red lip gloss all the time. My parents took him to a doctor who said he was fine and that it was just a bad habit he'd grow out of. My parents praised him to kingdom come.

I said it was a sign of mental instability, and I got grounded for a whole weekend.

No one ever believes me about Tommy. The adults always say the same thing: he's smaller than you, he can't really do much harm to you.

Sure, Tommy is a little squirt of a kid. But he's stronger than he looks.

But because I'm 15, and he's 11, everyone thinks that I'm over exaggerating. Especially my mother. My father doesn't believe me either, but he's a lot more subtle about Tommy being the favorite Webster child. My mother however might as well tattoo it across her forehead.

There was a time where I used to call them both "Mom and Dad", but after a certain event took place, I switched to "Mother and Father". I figured that if they didn't treat me like a kid, their kid, then I might as well be formal.

They didn't even notice.

They were too focused on Tommy.

As I thought about the unfairness of my life, I heard a loud noise come from the living room. Curious, I walked out of my room and peered downstairs.

My father and another guy were struggling with a long and narrow object, which was wrapped in a padded and gray cloth. The source of the noise had been a picture frame that got knocked over in their struggle to carry the heavy object.

The man helping my father grunted, "This would have been easier if we had another set of hands to help."

"I know, but you were the only one who volunteered when I asked for help," my father replied. "Be careful, this thing is very old and fragile."

I quickly when downstairs and followed them as they carried the mysterious object down the hall and into my father's study. I stood in the doorway as they kept conversing.

"Why would you even want to buy this thing? It's old and dusty, and it's just not worth the struggle," my father's friend said as they set it down and upright.

"It's an antique and lots of people collect them," Father replied, unamused. "And I got it with a great discount. The man selling it wanted to get rid of it."

"I wouldn't blame him, this thing is freaky," my father's friend pointed out.

Father gave him a glare. "I think it's charming in it's own way Dan"

Dan chuckled. "Yeah, sure. Anyway, I expect you to come through with your part of the deal. You're buying me a whole pizza for lunch tomorrow."

"Alright. Say hi to Mari and the kids for me," Father said, as Dan made his way through the front door.

Once Dan left, I entered the study. "What's this?"

Father grinned with pride. "Take a look."

He reached up and untucked the corner of the blanket. He gave it a gentle tug and dramatically dropped it, revealing a large grandfather clock.

It was fancy looking, and was a dark brown, decorated with gold, and the face was bronze with black hands and black Roman numerals. There was a big door in the middle of the clock and there was two little doors which was nearly hidden. It was very detailed, beautiful, and like my father said, very old. Dan was right too, it gave off an ominous vibe that just gave me the creeps.

As Father began gushing about the clock, Mother and Tommy came in.

"Oh, you got the clock!" Mother exclaimed. "How did you afford it?"

"It turns out that it wasn't as expensive as we thought!" Father said, nearly jumping up and down. "And even better, the owner of the clock is actually Uncle Herman. He's been trying to get rid of it for years, and for a while, no one wanted to by it because of how pricey it was. Uncle Herman was so desperate, that he kept lowering the price until finally, it was at $375! I ran into him this morning at the store, and he saw me admiring it."

"So you payed $375 for an old clock that no one wanted, to the point where it nearly became garbage?" Tommy asked.

My father laughed. "Actually, no! When the store owner wanted saw me admiring the clock, he told Uncle Herman, who told me that I could just have it!"

"Really? Why would he be trying to get rid of it so badly?" Mother asked.

"The store owner says it has a small flaw. If you look closely, you can see that there's a dial that has the years listed onto it, but there's a year missing." Father said.

"That's it? That's not a big deal, is it?" I asked.

"Not to me it's not. The store owner also says there's a little story that goes with it, " Father said. "Rumor has it, the son of one of the previous owners went crazy and kept telling everyone that it was an evil time machine that somehow took his sister."

"That's weird," I said.

"Well, the kid was around your age Michelle, and his dad had told him about some legend behind the clock about how it was enchanted and that it could be used as a time machine. The kid turned that story into a delusion, and not matter how many times the previous owner and his wife kept trying to tell their son that he never really had a sister, the kid just kept talking about how he had to go back in time to save her. It didn't last very long, maybe about a few months, he must have gotten tired of being laughed at, so he just stopped talking about it. Or maybe he just grew up. Anyway, that owner felt that the clock was somehow adding to his son's delusion, so he put it up into display at the antique store where apparently Uncle Herman bought it but then changed his mind about it. "

"Why did he display it in the antique store? Why didn't he just pawn it?" I asked. "If he had done that, he probably would have gotten a lot of money out of it."

Father shrugged. "I asked him the same thing and he said that he wanted to know who bought it. He's got that emotional attachment, which is why he gave it to me. He wanted it to stay in the family. His wife wasn't a huge fan of the clock."

"Well, it looks nice," Mother said. "You don't have to worry about me disliking it."

"Hey Dad, what's that?" Tommy asked. We all leaned closer to the clock and saw that there was a dial of numbers, like a smaller version of a clock, except instead of telling the time it had the years from 1800 to 2017. Underneath, there was a small gold button.

"I found the missing year," I said. "1996 is gone."

"Good eye Michelle," Father grinned. "For some reason, no one ever fixed that. I guess it just adds to the charm."

I looked down at Tommy and grinned smugly. He scowled and elbowed me in the gut, making me slip forward. I nearly landed straight onto the clock, but I felt my father quickly grab the back of my shirt. He tugged me back and I landed on my rear end instead.

"Careful Michelle! You could have really damaged the clock!" Father said. He quickly inspected the clock to make sure I hadn't.

He cared more about the clock getting hurt instead of his daughter. This time, Tommy smiled smugly at me and I glared at him.

I was about to open my mouth to tell him off, but I was interrupted by a long gong. The little doors above the face of the clock slide open, and a mean looking bird, with ruffled brown feathers and beady red eyes flew out.

I screamed as it flew straight at my face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom. Also, I used the book as a guideline (which explains the short chapters). This fic is going to be similar to the book with a few things from the episode added in there. However, there are going to be some other little twists that retro mania and I added on our own. The idea for this fic belongs to the fanfiction user, retro mania, I simply wrote it out (but I did add a couple of little things myself).**

 **Enjoy my lovely Vamps!**

Chapter 2

 _Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!_

I opened my eyes and peered up at the creepy little cuckoo bird.

Its red eyes glinted as if it were glaring at me. It flapped its brown wings. The head was at an odd angle like someone had broken its neck. It squawked three more times before it was pulled back into the clock, and the secret little doors shut quickly.

"Calm down Michelle, it's not going to hurt you," Mother said with an amused smile.

"Michelle, if you were a bird, you'd be a chicken!" Tommy laughed. He pounced on me, landing on my back, taking the opportunity that I had crouched down to avoid the stupid bird.

"Well if you were a bird, you'd be like that cuckoo bird, because you're crazy. Now get off me!" I said. I straightened up and shook him off. He landed on the ground and my mother quickly went to his rescue.

"Careful Michelle! You could have hurt Tommy!" Mother said. "Just because you're a girl, it doesn't mean you should play so rough with him."

"He jumped on me!" I pointed out.

"He's smaller than you, it's not like he can actually hurt you," Father said.

"He's not that small, he's 11 years old!" I said.

But did it matter? No. Because at that moment, Tommy smiled his "sweet little boy" grin at my parents and any reasoning would do no good.

My father looked back at the clock as if he were in a trance. "I admit that the cuckoo bird is a bit startling. The stories behind it definitely make it a bit unsettling."

"Stories? As in, more than one?" Tommy asked.

"That's right. The store owner thinks that the son of the past clock owner got his crazy tale based on the original story behind the clock. Legend has it that the clock comes from the Black Forest in Germany and that it was enchanted by the man who built it. He supposedly had magical powers and put a spell on the clock. The spell on the clock made it into a time machine, and one can use it to go back in time if you can figure out the secret." Father said.

Mother chuckled. "I'm sure the store owner just made that up to sell the clock. Is that why the other man bought it?"

"Must be. The store owner sounded pretty convincing when he was telling me the tale," Father said.

Mother wrinkled her nose and adjusted her glasses. She glanced at me. "Michelle, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't use these stories to scare Tommy."

"Why are you telling me that? I haven't even done anything!" I said.

"Because you have the tendency of messing around with your little brother, that's why" Mother said.

"Oh, I'm sure it's all in good fun. That's how siblings are, they mess around. Besides, Tommy knows better." Father said.

"Yeah, Mom. I know better than to believe in Michelle's fake fairy tales," Tommy said.

Mother beamed at him. "You must have gotten that from me. I was always practical, even at your age."

I had to literally bite down on my tongue so that I wouldn't reply to my mother.

"There's nothing wrong with a little imagination," Father said.

"Imagination is one thing," Mother said. "Lies and fibs are something else."

I was fuming at this point. My mother was so unfair to me. The worst part was the expression of victory on Tommy's face.

Making me look bad was his mission in life. I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face forever.

"Dinner is almost ready," Mother said, finally turning away from the clock and walked out of dad's office. "Kids, go wash up."

"And remember," Father warned. "No one touches the clock."

"Yes Father," I said.

Dinner began to sound really good. As I started towards the bathroom to wash my hands, I passed Tommy. He took the opportunity to kick me really hard in the shin.

"Ow!" I yelped.

"Michelle! Stop making so much noise," Father called out to me from the dining room.

"It's not my fault! Tommy kicked me!"

"It couldn't have hurt that much, he's smaller than you." Father reminded me.

My shin throbbed as I limped to the bathroom. Tommy followed me.

"You're such a baby," he taunted.

"Shut up, Tommy." How did I manage to get the worst brother in the world?

Dinner wasn't any better.

We had chicken and broccoli alfredo pasta for dinner. Mother has been trying to get us to eat healthier ever since she had a conversation about healthy meals with one of my aunts. Ever since then, Mother has been making our meals as healthy as possible. Father wasn't as big on it as Mother was. He and Tommy covered their pasta with a thick layer of parmesan cheese. I didn't mind as much since I needed to stay in shape anyway.

Halfway through dinner, Father said "Maybe my office should be off limits for a while. I hate to think of you two kids goofing off in there and breaking the clock."

"But I've got to do my homework in there tonight. I need to borrow your computer. I'm writing an essay and I also need to print it out," I said.

"Can't you just write it in your room?" Father asked.

"You want me to hand write an entire essay? It's gotta be typed and printed in a specific format. If I had a laptop, maybe I could, but I don't. I can show you our class syllabus if you want proof.," I said.

"That's not necessary," Father sighed. "After all, you've got to keep those grades up. I guess it's alright, you can use the computer tonight."

"I have to use the computer too," Tommy announced.

"No, you don't," I snapped. All he wanted to do was hang around to bug me.

"Yes, I do. I need to watch a video on World War II."

"You're making that up. You don't learn about World War II until middle school."

"How do you know? My class is learning about that now. Maybe I'm just in a smarter class than you were." Tommy said.

"Michelle, really. If Tommy says he needs to use the computer, why start a fight about it?" Mother said.

"Because we can't both use the computer at the same time," I pointed out.

"Well, let Tommy watch his video first, and then you can start on your essay," Father said.

I wanted to scream. I knew Tommy was going to take his time so that I would have to start late on my essay. And if I told our parents, they would probably just say something like. But I shoved pasta in my mouth instead. There was just no point in talking anymore. No matter what I say or do, my parents never listen.

All it would do is get me in trouble.

I grabbed my notes and my textbook after dinner and carried it to Father's office. There was no sign of Tommy-yet. Maybe I could start on my essay after all, at least until Tommy showed up. And I could write it out on Google Docs so that if he tried anything, like unplugging the computer, the essay will save automatically.

Proud of myself for having a strategy, I sat down on Father's chair. That's when the clock caught my eye.

It wasn't really that great. It was kind of ugly actually. But I liked looking at all the knobs, buttons, and scrolls. It was pretty easy to picture it as a time machine from one of those science fiction movies.

I glanced at the door. Our small dog, Bubble, walked in and wagged his tail. He jumped and put his front paws on my lap and I scratched the top of his head. My parents were still cleaning up after dinner, so I decided to look at the clock up closer.

Careful not to press any buttons, I ran my fingertip over a gold design. I quickly glanced up at the time, knowing that the creepy little bird could pop out at any moment. It was five minutes to eight.

My hand found its way towards a larger knob that opened a big door that I assumed was to give access to the clock's mechanics. Looking at the door, I decided that it would harm anyone if I took a little peek.

I tugged at the knob and the door stuck. I tugged harder, and the door flew open. I was suddenly knocked to the ground. Startled, I looked up and I screamed as I saw a demonic monster with a red face and yellow eyes. It looked right at me as it slowly raised a red claw and aimed for my throat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps or the original idea for this fic. This was a request for retro mania.**

 **Enjoy the chapter!**

Chapter 3

"Help! Someone help!" I shrieked.

I shut my eyes and waiting for my throat to be ripped out.

"Goochy goochy goo!" The monster laughed and tickled me with its claws.

My eyes flew open and anger replaced fear. It was just Tommy in his old Halloween costume.

He rolled on the floor laughing and clutching his stomach. "That was so easy! You should have seen your face when I jumped out!"

"That's not funny!" I snapped.

The clock made a loud gong noise and the cuckoo bird popped out, startling me again. This made Tommy laugh even harder.

"What's going on here?" Father's voice rang out from behind us. Tommy stopped laughing and we both looked at the doorway where our father was standing, glaring at us. "Why is that door open? Michelle, I told you both to stay away from the clock!"

"What?" I asked.

"She was messing with the clock," Tommy said. "I tried to stop her."

"I was not!" I said. "I swear, I wasn't!" I cried. But it was no use. Father was nodding, taking in every word that his precious Tommy was saying.

"Michelle, this is is ridiculous. I'm tired of you always causing trouble and then blaming your little brother for things that you do. It's time for you to grow up and start accepting responsibility for your own actions." Father said.

"I always get the blame for things that Tommy does! Why won't you people believe me?" I yelled, and I stormed out of the study. I didn't even care about my essay, I was too mad.

Tommy is the biggest pain in the world and he never got in trouble for anything. He ruins everything.

He even ruined my birthday.

I turned fifteen last week. Usually people like their birthday. It's supposed to be fun, especially if you're turning fifteen.

But not for me. Tommy made sure of that. It was one of the worst days in my life.

First, he ruined my present.

I could tell that my parents were excited for this gift. My mother kept hopping around like a cricket, saying "Don't go into the garage Michelle!" It was obvious that my gift was hidden in there. But to mess with her, I said "Why not? Why can't I go in there? My backpack has a rip in it and I need to fix the zipper. Your sewing kit is in the garage.

"No, don't worry about that! I'll get you a new bag, that one was old anyway," Mom quickly said. "You can't go in there because there was an oil leak in the car and the whole garage smells like oil. It's harmful to your lungs!"

Funny, right? And she's the one who calls me a liar at least five times a day.

But it was my birthday and for once, my mother was focusing on me.

"Alright, I won't go in there," I told her. And I didn't, even if my bag really did need to be mended. I wanted to be really surprised for whatever it was that they were giving me.

There was going to be a pool party that afternoon. My friends and some other kids from school were coming over. My mother baked a cake and made food, while my father cleared up our backyard and set out a bunch of tables and chairs around our pool. The sun was shining bright, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The day was very warm and it was the perfect weather for the party. I tried to take that as a sign that things would go great.

I was very wrong.

When Father went back inside to grab more chairs, Tommy reached up and tugged at the birthday banner that Father had hung up. When he came back, he noticed the banner on the ground. "Why won't this thing stay up?" he muttered as he reattached it. A few minutes later, Tommy tore it down again.

"Cut it out. I know what you're doing," I told him. "Stop trying to wreck my birthday."

"I don't have to wreck it. It's messed up all by itself just because it's the day you were born," Tommy said and pretended to shudder.

I ignored him. Tommy was supposed to stay inside the house with my parents during the party anyway. Mother said that he was too young to be hanging out with a bunch of teenagers. My parents were only going to supervise from the kitchen and only come out when they needed to.

About half an hour before people started to show up, Mother and Father called me to the garage. When I stepped inside, I nearly screamed with joy.

A car!

"It's not a brand new one. We figured that you needed something to start practicing your driving so that you can get your license next year. It was my cousin's car, but I fixed it up and gave it a new paint job." Father said.

"I don't care if it's not brand new, I love it!" I said, jumping up and down. Father had painted it my favorite shade of red.

"It's a bit ugly," Tommy said. And before I could stop him, be began climbing up the hood of the car.

"Tommy get off!" I yelled. He didn't listen. Instead, he scrambled up to the roof of the car. As he did, he slipped and fell off the side.

"Tommy! Honey, are you hurt?" Mother asked, rushing over to check on the little monster. He stood up and brushing himself off. "I'm fine. I think I bruised my knee though."

I looked at my car. When he had fallen off, he knocked the side mirror of the driver's side off, and it scraped the paint on the car as it fell off.

"Tommy, you wreck my car!" I yelled.

"Don't get overexcited. It's not that bad, we can fix it later." Father said.

"Don't you even care about your brother? He could have gotten seriously hurt!" Mother scolded me.

"That's his own fault! He shouldn't have climbed up on there in the first place!"" I said.

"Michelle, really. I know it's your birthday, but you don't have to act like such a brat. You need to learn how to be a good sister," Father told me.

They make me so mad!

"Let's go inside. Your friends will be here soon," Mother said.

I thought that the party would make me feel better. There would be cake, gifts, my friends, and swimming.

What could go wrong?

 _Everything._

It started off okay. Some classmates arrived, one by one, along with my friends. I have a group of five girl friends: Dana, Josie, another girl name Michelle who we just call Shelly, Hailee, and Lola. There are also three guys in the group: Cecil, Ryan, and Manny. I also invited two girls named Jojo and Alma. I wasn't too fond of Alma, but she was Jojo's best friend, and Jojo was the most popular girl in school, who happened to be Manny's sister. And I really liked Manny, not to mention that I wanted to gain Jojo's favor.

Manny and Jojo have shiny brown hair and freckles. I though Manny's were sort of cute, while Jojo liked to hide hers with makeup. They're both tall, and Jojo plays on the softball team while Manny plays on the basketball team. They're also both in theater with me. They carried an aura of confidence and there was just something really cool about them.

That day, Jojo was wearing a pink swimsuits, while Manny wore red swim trunks and a white t-shirt. They looked great, and even made me feel insecure for a split second.

They both handed me a gift each. Both gifts felt like books. I wondered what kind of books they thought I'd like.

I put the gifts on one of the tables outside.

"Hey Michelle, what did your parents give you?" Dana asked.

"A car," I said, trying to be cool about it. "Nothing new, just fixed and handed down."

I handed my friends the aux cord attached to the set of speakers so that they could play whatever music they'd like. I figured that they could take turns playing different things that would please everybody.

Mother and Tommy came out with some sandwiches, hot dogs, and a few boxes of pizza. Even though Mother went back into the kitchen, Tommy stayed.

"Your little brother is so cute," Jojo said. "He's so tiny!"

"He's not cute when you get to know him," I muttered.

"That's kind of mean," Jojo scolded.

"She's a terrible sister. She's always yelling at me," Tommy said.

"No I don't! Get lost Tommy," I said.

"I don't want to," Tommy replied, and stuck her tongue out at me.

"Let him stay, Michelle," Manny said. "He's not hurting anyone."

"Hey, Manny," Tommy chirped. "Michelle really likes you."

Manny's eyes widened. "She does?"

My face got red-hot. I glared at Tommy, wanting to strangle him on the spot. But I couldn't with all of these witnesses.

Manny started laughing, and so did Jojo, Alma, and my friends.

What could I say? I couldn't deny it and hurt his feelings or upset Jojo. But I couldn't admit it either.

I wanted to scream up at the sky, "JUST TAKE ME NOW!"

Jojo giggled. "Michelle, your face is all red!"

I grabbed Tommy and dragged him to the kitchen. "Thanks a lot, Tommy! Why did you have to tell Manny that I like him? What's the matter with you?"

"It's true isn't it?" the little brat asked. "I always tell the truth."

"Yeah right!" I snapped.

"Michelle! Are you being mean to your brother again?" Mother scolded. I stormed out of the kitchen without answering her.

"Hey Michelle, let's see your car," Josie said.

I shook my head. "It's in the garage and the side mirror got damaged."

"Didn't you just get it?" Hailee. "How is it damaged already?"

"My brother…" I shook my head. There was no point in explaining. "Let's just go open my gifts."

We went over to the table, where we found Tommy sitting in the middle of torn up wrapper. Some of my classmates were watching him. He unwrapped Manny's gift last.

"Look what Manny gave you!" Tommy called out.

It _was_ a book.

I took it from Tommy. It was a copy of Romeo and Juliet, my least favorite work of Shakespeare.

"Thanks Manny, it's awesome. I don't have this one," I said, trying my best to smile and act as if I loved it. He grinned back at me.

"Of course you don't. You said it was a lame story and you threw it out," Tommy piped up. Manny's grin faded and Tommy kept talking. "But now you'll probably like it now that you're in _love_!"

Everyone laughed and Manny grinned awkwardly.

They all thought Tommy was a riot.

Later, we all sat down near the pool for some cake.

Before my mother and I left the kitchen I asked her to keep Tommy away from the party."Mother, please. It's _my_ party."

Mother only smiled as if I were being silly and said, "You can carry this. Dad's looking for the candles so that you can make a wish."

"I already made a wish." I grumbled to myself. "But Tommy the Terrible is _still_ here!"

I carried the cake myself and Mother followed me with plates, napkins, and forks. It was my favorite kind: chocolate cake. It had blue icing that had "Happy Birthday" in red letters. As I balanced the cake in my hands, I focused on not dropping it. I didn't see Tommy sitting on the ground, and I didn't see him stick out his bratty little foot.

I tripped. The cake flew out of my hands.

I landed in the pool. I didn't see where the cake landed. I swam up to the surface, gasping.

Some kids were looking at me in horror. Others were trying to muffle their laughter.

I pulled myself up from the pool and gasped.

The cake had landed on Jojo, who had just pulled on a white dress to protect her skin while she took a break from swimming. The cake was smeared everywhere on her face, hair, chest, and on her lap.

For a split second, no one moved or spoke. Then the silence was cut by a high pitched scream that Jojo let out. Some of the cake had also landed on Manny, who only got a bit of cake on his arm and shoulder.

"What a mess! Michelle, why didn't you look where you were going?" Mother scolded, making things worse.

Jojo scooped up the lumpy mess off her lap as she stood up and threw it at me. I wiped frosting out of my eyes in time to see her storming off, red-faced and shaking in anger. Alma gathered Jojo's things and glared at me, following her. Manny stood up, awkwardly nodded and left as well. The minute that he did, everyone started laughing.

The party continued.

Besides Jojo, Manny, and Alma, everyone had a great time at my party.

Everyone but me.

My birthday was bad-very bad.

But ruining my birthday wasn't even the worst thing that Tommy has done to me.

Nobody would believe the worst thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for your patience!

Disclaimer: I do not own "The Cuckoo Clock of Doom"/Goosebumps or it's original characters. The original idea for this parallel story belongs to retro mania, I only own my own few ideas that I mixed in here.

Hope you enjoy my lovely vamps!

Chapter 4

It happened the week before my birthday. I was in a drama rehearsal at the school theater. Manny, Jojo, and Alma were there, we were all going to try on our costumes to double check for any needed adjustments.

The play was based on Alice in Wonderland. Jojo was Alice, and Manny was the Mad Hatter. Alma got the role of the Queen of Hearts, while I got to be the March Hare. I didn't mind, the March Hare is the Mad Hatter's companion, which meant that I got to work alongside Manny.

As I stood with them, waiting for the costumes to be handed out, Tommy walked right in through the door. He wasted no time in walking straight up to me.

"I need the house key," he said, and stuck out his hand.

I narrowed my eyes. "What for? You've got your own key."

"I left it at home and mom isn't going to be home until later," Tommy said.

"That's your problem," I told him.

"Fine, if I can't go home then I'll stick around here," Tommy replied with a nasty smirk.

I groaned. "Fine. But you better not lock me out of the house later on!"

Shrugging my bag off my shoulder, I swung it forward to grab the key-only to have several sanitary items fall out of the front pocket of my bag.

And to make matters worse, they didn't just fall out. They practically flew out and they landed at Manny's feet.

I felt my face flush as he awkwardly started laughing. Jojo and Alma laughed too, and Tommy laughed with them.

He looked like a rotten little hyena.

If you think that's bad? There's more.

Three days before that disaster, I had been passing notes with my friends during class. We would have been texting, but our math teacher likes to make us give our phones to her by keeping them in our bags and placing our bags next to the door. It was childish, but according to her, it prevented us from having distractions in class. My friends and I had been talking about how Kendra Flores was acting snobbier than usual.

Kendra Flores was another popular girl in the school, mainly for her athletics. She was tall and strong. And like everyone else, she loved her phone. It was one of her most prized possessions. Not to mention, she had it in this protective phone case that had the logo of her favorite basketball team; the Duke Blue Devils.

But the next day, Kendra was acting a lot calmer. She was put into our group and we all did our math worksheet together. We had a great time, and as we worked we talked and laughed. Turns out, she was just having a bad day the day before.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Tommy come into the class and talk to the teacher.

I wondered why he was here. The middle school and the high school were right next to each other, only separated by a gate, and we shared a cafeteria. But Tommy was supposed to be in class at the time.

I figured that maybe he was running an errand for his teacher. I just ignored him.

Tommy eventually left, and class ended. We all went to grab our backpacks when the bell rang, signaling the end of school. After I grabbed mine and went into the hallway, I heard a loud voice say, "Hey! Where's my phone?"

My friends and I paused to look at who lost their phone.

It was Kendra, and she looked angry.

She glared out into the hallway at us. Several of our classmates had paused to look at what the commotion was as well.

"Nobody move!" she said. "I'm going to check everyone's bag! Someone took my phone, I know it!"

I frowned. I didn't take her phone, and I just wanted to go home.

But everyone knows how strong she is, and everyone knows how much she was attached to her phone.

After she went through Hailee's bag, she grabbed mine. She paused, and her eyes narrowed as she pulled her phone out of my bag.

My stomach lurched. "I don't know how that got there, but I didn't take it!"

Kendra began to say something, but as she did, a piece of paper fell out of my bag. She snatched it up and began to read it. I felt my face grow pale as I recognized what the paper was: the note that my friends and I had been passing about her.

I tried to explain myself, but Kendra never was a good listener. Right there in front of everyone, she swung at me.

I'll spare the rest of the painful and bloody details.

After Kendra finished beating me into a pulp, Hailee and Josie helped me get home. My mother almost didn't recognize me.

When I explained what happened, she shook her head at me. "Honestly Michelle, you know better than to be gossiping and stealing."

"What?" I cried. "You're saying this is my fault?"

I was angry after she told me that, and I made my way to the bathroom to clean up.

As I began washing the blood off my face, I caught a glimpse of Tommy in the mirror. One look from his nasty grin, and I knew.

"It was you! You put Kendra's phone in my bag! And you knew she would find the note!" I exclaimed.

He kept grinning. Because of course it had been him. Who else would do something so sneaky and so terrible?

Who else would enjoy seeing me in such pain?

"Why? Why would you do that to me Tommy?" I asked.

"I went into your class to borrow your phone to call mom," Tommy said innocently. "I must have gotten mixed up and grabbed hers instead of yours and put it back in the wrong bag by mistake."

"That's such a lie! You know what my bag and phone look like!" I said. "You're a little sociopath!"

I was so furious, I couldn't even stand to look at him. I shoved him out of the bathroom and slammed the door in his face.

And of course, I got in trouble for pushing him and for slamming the door.

But now you understand what I have to live with. And now you understand why I did the terrible thing that I did.

Anyone in my place would have done the same.


	5. Chapter 5

Enjoy my vamps!

Disclaimer: I do not own "The Cuckoo Clock of Doom"/Goosebumps or it's original characters. The original idea for this parallel story belongs to retro mania, I only own my own few ideas that I mixed in here.

Chapter 5

After the incident with Kendra Flores, I stayed up in my room trying to plan a way to get Tommy into major trouble. But nothing came to me. I had no good ideas, at least nothing good enough.

But then the clock came. And a few days later, Tommy did something that got the wheels in my head turning.

Tommy couldn't stay away from the cuckoo clock. It was just irresistible to him, like a magnet drawing him in. One day, Father caught him messing with the clock hands. Of course, he didn't get into real trouble, not his sweet son Tommy. But Father did say, "I've got my eyes on you young man. No more playing with the clock."

"Yes Dad," Tommy had said. He turned around and saw me standing there, and he stuck his tongue out at me.

At last! Father finally could see that Tommy wasn't as a perfect little angel as he appeared to be. I just had to wait for another chance. And I got one sooner than I expected.

Later that night, I had gotten up to grab a glass of water and as was about to make my way back to my room, I heard Father's voice speaking from his study.

"Tommy," he said in a stern voice.

"Yeah Dad?" Tommy's voice replied. He sounded sheepish.

"I thought I told you not to touch the clock," Father said.

I glanced into the room. Tommy was sitting on the floor next to the clock and Father was standing over him, hands on his hips. He only did that when he was seriously upset.

"If I find that there's anything broken on the clock, you're in serious trouble," Father said.

I mentally cheered and quickly went to my room before they could notice that I was watching.

At last, I finally had the perfect chance to get Tommy into trouble.

If something went wrong with the clock, Tommy would get the automatic blame.

So what if he got in trouble for something he didn't do? He totally deserved it. It's evening the score, and only by a little.

After Father and Tommy went to sleep, I stayed awake until a minute before midnight. Then, I snuck downstairs.

As I entered Father's study, there was a loud thump, which startled me. I saw that the window was open and the the breeze had pushed the curtain, knocking down a frame.

I quickly went over and shut the window, then picked up the picture. It was four separate pictures in one frame: one picture of each of us with my parents at the top and Tommy and I on the bottom. I set down the frame; I only had a few seconds left before the clock struck twelve.

The clock hands twitched and the creepy cuckoo bird popped out. It gave two cuckoos before I grabbed it in mid-cuckoo. It made little strangling noises as I twisted its around. It looked really funny with its head facing the wrong way. It went back in with its head backwards.

This is going to drive Father insane! I grinned wickedly.

He'll be so furious with Tommy. He'll explode like a volcano, for sure!

Tommy will finally know what it's like to be blamed for something that you didn't do.

I crept back upstairs without a sound.

No one heard me.

No one saw me.

"Have fun explaining this one, Tommy," I said with a smile.

I fell asleep feeling giddy that night.

There's nothing like revenge.

I slept in late the next morning. Even though I was excited to watch Father blow up at Tommy, and I didn't want to miss it, I knew that if I showed up downstairs too early could mess things up. If Father saw me down there before everyone else, I could be the one to get the heat for the broken clock. If I slept in late, as if I had no guilt, I'd be fine.

When I did get out of bed, I hurried downstairs.

I checked the study. No one was in there.

Maybe I did miss it.

Maybe not.

I was hungry, so I went to the kitchen next. My parents and Tommy were in there, sitting at the table with empty plates in front of them. When I walked in, they all chorused, "Happy birthday!"

"What's going on? My birthday was days ago," I said.

Mother stood up. "Do you want pancakes?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Sure."

Tommy leaned forward. "I get to help out at your party," he told me.

"Very funny," I snapped.

"Hurry up and eat," Mother said. "Your friends will be here soon, and we're not done decorating the backyard. I still need to pick up the frosting for the cake."

I frowned. What did she mean?

After breakfast, I noticed Father carrying blue and yellow streamers out to the backyard. I stood there and watched as Tommy yanked down a banner that said "Happy Birthday" on it.

"Okay, joke's over," I told Mother after she told me to change into my bathing suit.

"What joke?" She asked in confusion. "I'm serious, go change, the party will start soon!"

She shook her head and adjusted her glasses before shuffling back into the kitchen.

Father frowned as he reattached the fallen banner.

"Why won't this stay up?" he muttered.

I finally asked him, "Why are you putting that banner up?"

"For your birthday party, I thought it would look nice up here," Father smiled. "Now go get ready for your special day!"

I stared at him.

Another birthday party?

What's going on?


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am simply writing this on a request for fanfiction user, retro mania. I only own my own ideas that I have plugged into this fic.**

 **Sorry for the short chapter! I'll try my best to update soon!**

 **Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 6

I spent the rest of the morning feeling dazed.

What was going on?

Why was my family acting like this?

This had to be a crazy dream. Or maybe Tommy had convinced my parents on playing some kind of sick joke. Maybe I was getting pranked and recorded live on YouTube.

I eventually decided not to fall for it, no matter how convincing they acted.

Eventually, my parents and Tommy led me to the garage the same way they did on my birthday.

Then they opened the door and I gasped.

My car was there, but it was new again. The mirror hadn't been broken off and the paint wasn't scratched or anything.

That must have been the reason why they were acting so weird. They somehow had gotten it fixed.

"Do you like it?" Mother asked.

"It's awesome!" I said, nearly jumping with excitement.

Then Tommy said: "Nice car!" and he scrambled up the car and fell, taking the side mirror and scratching the car in the process.

"Tommy! Are you hurt?" Mother cried.

I stood there, frozen.

This can't be happening.

This horrible day could not be happening again.

This had to be a nightmare, there was no other explanation!

"Don't worry Michelle, we can fix it!" Father said, putting his arm around my shoulder. "Maybe you can use your birthday wish!"

I looked up at him as his words sunk in.

My birthday wish. That had to be it. After Tommy had tripped me, I had wished that this day wouldn't have happened the way it did, that I could go back and fix things so that Jojo and Manny didn't hate me. Even if I didn't blow the candles out, the candles did technically go out when I was making the wish.

I started to smile. This was so cool! I could change everything!

But when Tommy pushed past me and stomped on my foot while doing so, the smile vanished.

Because I knew, that even if I did try to do things differently, I'd have to go against Tommy's schemes.

But maybe things would be different this time.

The party started like the first time and all hope of things being different began to fade away as I heard Tommy say, "Hey Manny, Michelle really likes you."

And like before, Manny's eyes widened and he said: "She does?"

And like before, I wanted to disappear.

I began to panic. If Tommy stayed, he'd ruin everything again!

So when my mother came out to bring out more sodas, I grabbed her by the arm.

"Mother, please, get Tommy out of my party! Lock him in his room or something!" I pleaded.

"Oh Michelle, why? Your friends are having fun with him, and they aren't acting inappropriately around him," Mother said and shook me off. She smiled as if I were being silly.

"Mother, please! It's my birthday, and he's embarrassing me! This is supposed to be my special day, why can't you let me have this?" I asked.

"Michelle, he's a little boy. He won't hurt anyone, be nice to him!" Mother scolded and left me standing there.

I was shaking in anger. It was like my mother didn't even care about me or how I felt.

My friends asked me what my parents got me. I told them that I had gotten a car, but that it need to be fixed. I showed them anyway.

When we got back from the garage, there was Tommy surrounded by my gifts and wrapping paper.

"Hey Michelle, look what Manny gave you!" he said.

A book, a copy of Romeo & Juliet.

"She's actually read this one and said she didn't like it," Tommy announced. "But she'll probably like it now, since she's in love this time!"

Everyone laughed.

It was just as bad as before.

Actually, it was worse. Because I had seen it coming and I couldn't stop it.

But maybe I could.

I had to, or else this wish would have been for nothing!

My mother called me to get the cake.

I wouldn't let Tommy ruin this for me again. Not this time.

I'd be more careful, especially because I now knew that Tommy was going to trip me.

But this time, I'll avoid it. I'll walk a different route.

No matter what, I was going to beat Tommy this time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here.**

Chapter 7

I stood in the kitchen, staring at the cake. I could hear my friends laughing and talking as they waited outside. Tommy was out there too and I knew that he was hiding underneath one of the tables, waiting to make me fall and embarrass myself all over again.

Not this time.

I carefully picked up the cake in both hands and started toward the glass double doors leading to the backyard. Mother followed, just as before. I stopped as I neared the tables. I glanced down. There was no sign of Tommy.

Carefully, watching closely, I stepped closer.

One step.

So far, so good.

Another step.

I stood on Jojo's left side this time.

I'd made it!

All I had to do was get around her to the table, about five steps away, and I'd be safe.

I took another step forward, then I felt a shove from behind me.

Things changed all right. But they didn't change for the better.

This time, Tommy didn't trip me, he pushed me. And this time, I didn't drop the cake onto Jojo, I accidentally knocked her over, making her lose her balance and fall onto Manny. The both of them landed in the pool. I landed hard on the ground and my face hit the cake.

I turned my head and glanced back. Tommy stood there, smirking down at me.

I wanted to kill him.

Everybody gasped with laughter. I sat up and wiped the frosting from my eyes. Manny swam to the side of the pool and he pulled himself out. Jojo swam to the side too, but stayed in. They were both laughing.

"Good thing it's a pool party," Jojo laughed.

Manny leaned over the table, laughing harder than anybody.

The second time was somehow more embarrassing than the first. Because even though Jojo and Manny didn't hate me, I was still humiliated.

And this time, Manny was laughing _at_ me.

I sat on the ground, my face covered with cake.

How could I have been so stupid?

Why did I have to make that wish?

I'll never wish for anything ever again.

I cleaned myself up and managed to survive the rest of the party.

When I went to bed that night, I thought that at least it was over. I switched off the light and pulled the covers up high.

"It's over," I muttered to myself. "I'll go to sleep, and everything will be back to normal in the morning."

I shut my eyes and fell asleep.

But in my dreams I saw scenes from my horrible birthday party. The nightmare party became a real nightmare. There was Tommy, telling Manny that I liked him. Manny's face loomed up large in my dreams, laughing, laughing. Jojo and Alma, and the rest of my friends, were all laughing right in my face. I tripped and fell on top of the cake, over and over again. At one point, I got up and slipped on a piece of cake and fell into the pool, over and over again.

I tossed and turned.

Each dream was scarier than the last. Soon my friends looked like horrible monsters, their eyes rolled back, their faces and jaws long, and their laughter became slow and deep. And Tommy was the most horrible of all. His features melted into a blur as she laughed and laughed at me. He laughed like a maniac. Then his eyes began to glow red, and his laugh began to sound like the cuckoo bird from the clock. He eventually turned into the cuckoo bird, except for his face, which was still twisted in a crazy grin as he laughed.

 _Wake up_ , I told myself.

 _Wake up!_

I eventually managed to dragged myself out of the nightmare world. I sat up in bed in a cold sweat. I glanced at the clock.

Three o'clock in the morning. I couldn't sleep and I couldn't calm down.

I decided to tell Mother and Father what happened.

Maybe they can help me feel better. I climbed out of bed and hurried down the dark hall to their room.

Their door was open a crack and I pushed it open. "Mother? Father? Are you awake?"

Father rolled over and grunted, "Huh?"

I shook Mother's shoulder. "Mother?"

She stirred.

"What is it, Michael?" she whispered.

She sat up and grabbed the clock radio. In the clock's dim blue glow I saw her squint, trying to read the time.

"It's three o'clock!" she cried.

Dad snorted and sat up suddenly. "Huh? What?"

"Mom, you've got to listen to me!" I whispered. "Something creepy happened today. Didn't you notice it?"

"Michelle, what is this—"

"My birthday," I explained, cutting my mother off. "Tommy ruined my birthday, and I wished that I could have it all over again. I wanted to make it better. But I never thought the wish would come true! Then, today, it was my birthday again! And everything happened different, but it still ended in a disaster that was similar to the first one. It was horrible!"

Dad rubbed his eyes. "That you, Michelle?"

Mom patted him. "Go back to sleep, dear. Michelle just had a bad dream."

"No, Mom," I cried. "It wasn't a dream. It was real! My birthday happened twice! You were there, both times. Don't you understand?"

"Listen, Michelle," Mother began, sounding impatient. "I know you're excited about your birthday, but it's two days away. There's no need to make us lose sleep on one of your crazy stories. It was a bad dream, the excitement is just messing with you. But it's alright. There's only two days to go, then it will be your birthday at last! Okay? So go back to bed now and get some sleep." She kissed me good night. "It was just a bad dream, but your birthday is in two days. Try to get some sleep honey."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide, and put in a few episode references.**

 **Sorry for the short chapter!**

 **I Hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 8

I staggered back to bed, my head spinning.

Two days until my birthday? Hadn't I just lived through my birthday twice? I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed my phone. The date said February 3rd. My birthday is February 5th. My birthday was two days away.

Could it be true?

Was time going backwards?

No way. I must be going nuts.

I shook my head hard and even slapped myself a few times.

Going back in time...ha! I laughed at the idea. It's impossible!

Then again, so was repeating my birthday thanks to a wish come true. And even then, all I did was wish to celebrate my birthday over again, once. I didn't wish to repeat my twelfth birthday for the rest of my life!

But if that's what's happening, why is it now two days before my birthday?

Why isn't it just the night before?

Maybe time really is going backwards.

Maybe this has nothing to do with my wish.

But then why is this happening to me?

I racked my brains. How is it possible that I'm going back in time magically?

Time.

Magic.

I twisted the cuckoo's head backwards… went to bed… and when I woke up, time had gone backwards.

Could that be it?

Did I do this?

Is Dad's clock really magic?

Maybe I shouldn't have turned that stupid bird backwards.

With my luck, of course this would happen. I try to get Tommy into trouble, and end up getting myself into a horrible mess.

Well, if that is what happened, it's easy enough to fix.

I'll just go downstairs and turn the cuckoo's head back around! Simple as that.

I tiptoed out of my room and down the stairs. My parents had probably fallen back to sleep already, but I didn't want to take any chances. I definitely didn't want Father to catch me fooling around with his precious clock.

My feet stepped lightly on the cold floor as I crept into the down the stairs and to Father's office. I switched on a lamp and glanced around the room.

My breath caught in my throat and I felt like I was being strangled.

The cuckoo clock was gone.

I felt nauseous.

Had the clock been stolen?

Without the clock, how could I fix everything?

How could I turn the bird's head around and make my life go forward again?

I raced upstairs, panicking. I didn't care who I woke up now.

"Mother! Father!" I yelled.

I burst into their room and shook Mother awake again.

"Michelle, what is it?" she snapped, sounding furious. "It's the middle of the night. We're trying to get some sleep!"

Let them be angry, I thought. This was way more important.

"The cuckoo clock! It's gone!"

Father rolled over. "What? Huh?"

"Michelle, you've had another nightmare," Mother assured me. Her voice had grown softer when she saw that I was hyperventilating.

"It's not a nightmare, Mother! It's true! Go downstairs and see for yourself! There's no cuckoo clock in the den!" I said, tearing up at this point.

"Michelle, listen to me. It was a dream." Mother's voice was still soft, but firm. "We don't own a cuckoo clock. We never did."

I staggered backwards.

"It's just a dream. A bad dream," she said.

"But Father bought it…." I began, but stopped.

I understood now.

The date was February 3rd.

Two days before my birthday.

And five days before Father bought the cuckoo clock.

We were traveling back in time. Father hadn't bought the clock yet.

I felt sick.

"Michael, are you alright?" Father asked. He climbed out of bed and pressed the back of his hand against my forehead.

"You feel a little warm," he said. His voice was soft as well, and I was sure that he was doing it because he thought that I might be sick. "Come on, let's get you to bed. I'll bet you have a fever and that's why you're having all these nightmares. I'll take care of it, Diane. Go back to sleep." He guided me back to bed.

"Father, I'm not sick!" I insisted. "I time traveled backwards with the clock, I swear!"

"Get some sleep Michelle," Father said. "You'll feel a lot better in the morning. Like I say, tomorrow is another day."

My parents thought I was sick.

But I knew the truth.

I had made time move backwards.

And my only hope was the clock, and now it was gone.

How would I fix things now?


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide, and put in a few episode references.**

 **I Hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 9

Morning eventually came.

"Hurry up, Michelle, you're going to be late," Father said.

Being late for school didn't seem to matter much at the moment.

"Father, please sit down for a second," I pleaded. "Just for a minute. It's important."

He sat impatiently on the edge of a kitchen chair. "Michelle, what's going on?"

"Mother, are you listening?" I asked.

"Sure honey," Mother replied.

She put the milk in the refrigerator and busily wiped off the counter.

"This is going to sound weird," I began. "But I'm not kidding."

I paused.

Father waited. I could tell by the tension in his face he expected me to say something totally crazy.

I didn't disappoint him.

"Time is going backwards. Every time that I go to sleep and wake up, it's an earlier day than the last!" I said.

Mother frowned. "Michelle, you have a wonderful imagination, but you're running late, and now your father is too."

"Can we talk about it when I get home from work tonight? Or why don't you write it down? You know I love reading science fiction stories," Father said, standing up.

"Did somebody remember to feed the dog?" Mother asked.

"I did it," Tommy said. "Even though it's supposed to be Michelle's job."

"Thank you Tommy, that was very responsible of you," Mother said. "Michelle, hit the road."

I grabbed a muffin as Mother hustled us out the door.

 _They're just too busy to understand right now._ I told myself as I hurried to school. _Tonight, at dinner, when I have more time to explain…_

I had lots of time to think about my problem during school.

I'd lived through this day before, too. I'd already done all the work, heard all the lessons, eaten the awful lunch.

When my English teacher, Mrs. Parker, turned her back to the class, I knew what would happen next.

I predicted it to the second. A kid threw an eraser and hit her smack on the back of her black pencil skirt.

" _Now Mrs. Parker is going to turn around_ ," I thought.

She turned around.

 _Now she'll yell at the kid._

Mrs. Parker shouted, "Go to the principal's office, now!"

 _And now the kid will start yelling his head off._

"How do you know it was me!" the kid yelled. "You didn't see me do anything!"

The rest of the scene happened as I remembered it.

Mrs. Parker told him to go to the principal's office again. The kid kicked over an empty chair and threw his books across the room.

It was all so boring

After school, I had a drama rehearsal.

I walked into our school auditorium to find our theater director scrambling around trying to do a bunch of things at once. It felt very familiar.

Oh, no.

Manny, Jojo, and Alma.

Alice in Wonderland.

The tampons.

I can't let it happen.

But my feet started taking me towards them. I was walking like a robot to the same place where I stood last time.

Why am I doing this?

I'll swing my bag to the front and the zipper will be open. Tommy will come into the theater and ask for my spare key, and the tampons will fall out of the bag. Jojo will laugh her head off and Manny will avoid any contact with me for the rest of the rehearsal.

I'll want to sink through the floor.

I know all this will happen.

So why am I doing it?

Can't I stop myself?

There has to be another way.

I paused. Then I forced myself to turn around and walk in the other direction.

"Hey, Michelle! Where are you going? We need to try the costumes on," Jojo called out to me.

All right, I thought.

I may have to go stand with them when Tommy shows up. But that doesn't mean the tampons have to fall out. I can still keep that from happening. I turned slowly and walked back towards them but this time, I reached back and closed the zipper.

" _Now try to embarrass me, Tommy,"_ I thought. " _You can't outsmart Michelle Webster. No way."_

He'd ask for the key and this time I'll open the other zipper and give him my regular key. Then I can just use the spare myself later.

Five minutes later, Tommy showed up. "Michelle, I forgot my key. I need the spare."

"Sure," I said. "But you can use my regular key, I'll use the spare later."

I felt smug as I carefully swung my backpack to my front and I reached for the pocket with my key.

But the smug feeling went away as the sanitary products flew out and landed at Manny's feet.

Jojo and Alma burst out in laughter, and Manny avoid eye contact with me.

No!

"I closed the zipper, how did that happen?" I cried.

"The zipper on your bag is broken, remember?" Tommy pointed out, his face red from laughing so hard.

"No, Mother fixed it…" I trailed off.

My mother had fixed it on my birthday. After the day of this incident. It hadn't happened yet.

How was I going to keep these kinds of things from happening?

I'm doomed to relive every awful thing that Tommy has made me go through.

Time is all messed up and I don't know how to stop it.

I began to shake.

This was starting to get scarier.

Will this ever end?

What if it doesn't?

What if I go so far back that I stop existing?


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 10

I couldn't eat dinner that night.

We had eaten it before and I hadn't liked it the first time. brussels sprouts, cauliflower, and squash over brown rice. I picked at the rice and at the squash. I never eat brussels sprouts and I slipped them into my napkin when Mother and Father weren't looking.

I watched my family eat dinner as if nothing were wrong. They sat calmly around the table, saying the same things they'd said last time. Father talked about his day at work, Mother brought up the latest gossip about other family members and Tommy was chattering about his teacher and how unfair she was.

" _Mother and Father must notice that something is weird,"_ I thought. " _So why don't they say anything about it?"_

I waited for Father to finish telling us about some funny guy at his job before I brought up the subject again.

I decided to take it slowly. "Mother? Father? Doesn't this dinner seem a little bit familiar?"

"I'll say," Father replied. "It reminds me of the lunch we ate at that awful vegetarian restaurant last month."

Mother glared at him, then at me.

"What are you trying to tell us, Michelle?" she said in an icy tone. "Are you tired of eating healthy food?"

"I am," Father said.

"Yes, extremely," Tommy chimed in.

"A little," I admitted. "But that's not the point I'm trying to make."

"It sure seems like it," Mother said, her voice getting sharper.

"You don't understand. I don't mean that we've eaten food _like_ this before. I mean that we have eaten this exact meal before. We've eaten it twice," I said.

Father frowned. "Michelle, please. No weird theories right now."

They weren't getting it.

I refused to give up. "It's not just this dinner. It's this whole day. Haven't you noticed? We're doing everything over! Time is going in reverse!"

"Shut up Michelle," Tommy said. "This is so boring. Can't we talk about something else?"

"Tommy," Mother scolded, "don't say 'shut up'." She turned to me. "Have you been reading those comic books again?"

"Hey Michelle, maybe you should start one of those YouTube channels about conspiracy theories," Father said. "Maybe you'll meet that one guy you like, Sean Johnson."

"Dad, his name is Shane Dawson.

"You're not listening to me!" I cried, getting frustrated. "Tomorrow is going to be yesterday, and the day after that will be the day before! Everything is going backward!"

Mother and Father exchanged glances. They seemed to be sharing a secret.

" _They do know something,"_ I thought with excitement." _They know something, but they're afraid to tell me_."

Mother gazed at me very seriously. "All right, Michelle. We might as well tell you. We're all caught in a time warp, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"I knew it!" I exclaimed. "You did notice!"

Mother pushed back her chair and walked in reverse to the stove. She started dishing rice from her plate into the pot on the stove. "

Yenoh, ecir erom?" she asked Father.

Huh?

"Esaelp, sey," Father replied.

"Oot, em," Tommy said.

He spit some rice out on his fork and dumped it back onto his plate. It was like he was eating backwards.

Father stood up and walked backwards to Mother.

Then Tommy skipped backwards around the kitchen table.

They were all talking and moving backwards.

"Hey!" I cried. "What's going on? Why aren't I talking backwards, too?

"Norom," Tommy said.

He cracked up first. Then Father started laughing. Then Mother.

I finally caught on. It was a joke.

"You're all horrible!" I cried.

That made them laugh even more.

"I was wondering when you'd figure it out," Tommy sneered.

They all sat down at the table again.

Mother couldn't help grinning. "We're sorry, Michelle. We didn't mean to make fun of you."

"That's a lie, we totally did!" Tommy crackled.

I glared harshly at him, wishing that I could shoot lasers out of my eyes to obliterate him.

This was the most terrible thing that had ever happened to me, and they thought it was a big joke.

Then Father said, "Michelle, did you ever hear of déjà vu?"

I nodded.

"I haven't," Tommy piped up.

"It's when something happens to you and you have the feeling it's happened before," Father explained. "Everyone feels that way once in a while. It's nothing to be afraid of."

"Maybe you're nervous about something," Mother added. "Like your birthday coming up. I'll bet you're a little nervous about turning 15. And planning your party and impressing your little high school friends."

"No, I'm not," I protested. "I know that feeling, because I already lived through it, twice. This isn't the same thing! This is-"

"Hey Chell," Dad interrupted. "Wait till you see what we got you for your birthday. You're going to love it. It's a pretty big surprise."

" _No, it isn't_ ," I thought unhappily. " _It's not a surprise at all. You've given me that birthday present twice already. How many times are you going to give me that stupid car?"_

"Mom, Michelle is hiding brussels sprouts in her napkin again," Tommy ratted.

I smashed the brussels sprouts up in my napkin and threw it in his face.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide, and put in a few episode references.**

 **I Hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 11

When I went to school the next morning, I wasn't sure what day it was. It was getting hard to keep track. My classes, my lunch, the stuff my friends said all seemed familiar. But nothing unusual happened. It could have been any day of the school year. I went to all of my classes as usual.

Before my last class began, a funny feeling crept over me.

A bad feeling.

This day didn't end well.

But I waited to see what would happen.

We got into groups. We did our work. We collected our packs. It hit me when Tommy came in and whispered something to my teacher.

Today that that day.

I knew what was coming and this time, I didn't even try to stop it.

After class, Kendra Flores yelled, "Where's my phone?"

Tommy the Terrible has done it again!

"Nobody leaves until we find that phone!" Kendra yelled.

I shut my eyes and handed over my pack.

I knew what was coming, might as well get it over with.

Getting pounded to a pulp by Kendra Flores hurt a lot.

But at least the pain didn't last long.

The next morning when I woke up, it was all gone. The pain, the scabs, the bruises, everything. _"What day is it today?"_ I wondered.

It must be a few days before Kendra beat me up. I hope I won't have to live through that a third time.

But what will happen today?

As I walked to school, I searched for clues. I tried to remember what had happened a day or two before I got beat up.

A math test? Maybe. I hoped not.

But at least it would be easier this time around. I could even try to remember what the problems were and look up all the answers before the test!

I was a little late today.

Did that mean something? Would I get into trouble?

My homeroom teacher, Mr. Jacobson, had closed the classroom door. I opened it.

The classroom was already full. Mr. Jacobson didn't look up when I walked in.

" _I must not be that late,"_ I thought.

I started for the back of the room, where I usually sit. As I passed through the rows of desks, I glanced at the other kids.

" _Who's that girl?_ " I wondered, staring at a blonde girl that I'd never seen before.

Then I noticed a guy with three piercings. I'd never seen him before, either.

I stared at all the faces in the classroom. None of the kids looked familiar.

" _What's going on?"_ I wondered, feeling panic choke my throat.

Where's my class?

Mr. Jacobson finally turned around and stared at me.

"Hey," the blond girl asked loudly. "What's a third-grader doing in here?"

Everybody laughed but I couldn't understand why.

A third-grader? Who was he talking about? I didn't see any third-graders.

"You're in the wrong classroom, young lady," Mr. Jacobson said to me.

He opened the door, showing me the way out. "I think your room is downstairs on the second floor," he added.

"Thanks," I said.

I didn't know what he was talking about. But I decided to go along with it. He shut the door behind and I could hear the kids laughing behind it.

I hurried down the hall to the bathroom. I needed to splash some cold water on my face. Maybe that would help.

I turned on the cold water tap and glanced in the mirror, very quickly.

The mirror seemed a little higher than usual. I washed my hands in the cold water and splashed some on my face. The sink seemed higher, too.

Strange.

Am I in the right school? I glanced in the mirror again and got the shock of my life.

Was that me?

I looked so _young._ I even had the awful bangs that I wore when I was in third-grade.

I've got my third-grade hair. My third-grade clothes. My third-grade body.

But my tenth-grade brain.

Third grade. That means I've slipped back four years in one night.

My whole body started to tremble. I grabbed on to the sink to steady myself.

I was suddenly paralyzed with fear.

Things were speeding up. Now I lost whole years in one night!

How old will I be when I wake up tomorrow?

Time was going backward faster and faster and I still hadn't found a way to stop it.

I shut off the water and dried my face with a paper towel. I didn't know what to do. I was so frightened, I couldn't think straight.

I walked back to my third-grade classroom.

First, I glanced through the window of the classroom door.

There she was, Mrs. Harris, my old third-grade teacher. I'd know that helmet of silver hair anywhere.

And I knew, as soon as I saw her, that I really had gone back in time four years. Because old Mrs. Harris shouldn't have been in school that day. She'd retired a few years ago. She had retired before, but came back to teach for a few more years before she left for good.

I opened the door and stepped into the classroom. Mrs. Harris didn't bat an eye.

"Take a seat, Michael," she commanded.

She never mentioned the fact that I was late. Mrs. Harris always liked me.

I checked out the other kids in the class.

I saw Josie, Alma, Jojo, and Manny, all little third-graders now.

Manny had his hair a little longer. Jojo wore her shiny hair in two braids. Alma wore hers in one of those stupid side ponytails at the top of her head. Josie didn't have pimples on her forehead, I noticed. Hailey had a Spiderman sticker on the back of her hand.

It was my class all right.

I sat down at an empty desk in the back. My old desk. Right next to Ryan.

I glanced at him. He was picking his nose.

Gross.

I forgot about the things that third-graders had to go through.

"Michelle, we're on page 22 in your spelling book," Mrs. Harris informed me. I reached inside the desk and found my spelling book. I opened it to page 22.

"These are the words you'll need to know for tomorrow's spelling test," Mrs. Harris announced. She wrote the words on the board, even though we could read them right there in the spelling book: Taste, sense, grandmother, easy, happiness.

"Man," Ryan whispered to me. "These words are tough. Look how many letters there are in grandmother!"

I didn't know what to say to him. I hadn't had a spelling test since 7th grade. After 8th grade, we didn't take them anymore. We started focusing on things like old literature. A word like "grandmother" wasn't a big challenge for me anymore.

I zoned out for most of the day. I'd always wished school were easier, but not this easy. It was so babyish and boring.

Lunch and recess were even worse. Josie chewed up a banana and stuck her tongue out at me. Ryan painted his face with chocolate pudding.

Finally the school day ended and dragged my little third-grade body home.

When I opened the front door, I heard a horrible yelp. Bubble, just a puppy now, raced past me and out the door.

Tommy toddled after him.

"Leave him alone!" I scolded.

"You're dumb," he replied.

I stared at Tommy. He was four years old.

I tried to remember: Had I liked him better when he was four?

"Give me a piggyback!" he cried, tugging on my backpack.

"Get off me," I said.

My pack dropped to the floor. I stooped to pick it up and he grabbed a hunk of my hair and yanked it.

"Ow!" I screamed.

Tommy laughed.

"That hurt!" I yelled, and shoved him, just as Mother stepped into the foyer.

She rushed to Tommy's side.

"Michelle, don't shove your brother. He's only a little boy!"

I stormed off to my room to think.

No, I hadn't liked Tommy better when he was four. He was as much of a brat as ever. Tommy was born a brat, and he'd never grow out of it, I knew. He'd be a brat for the rest of his life, driving me crazy even when we're old.

" _If we ever get to be old_ ," I thought with a shudder.

We'll never grow up at this rate.

What am I going to do?

I've slipped back in time four years! If I don't do something fast, I'll be a baby again. And then what?

A cold shiver ran down my back.

 _And then what?_ I asked myself.

Will I disappear completely?


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide, and put in a few episode references.**

 **I Hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 12

I woke up in a panic every morning.

What day was it?

What year was it?

I had no idea.

I climbed out of bed, it now seemed farther away from the floor than it used to be, and walked across the hall to the bathroom.

I stared in the mirror.

How old was I?

Younger than I'd been the day before, I knew that much.

I went back to my room and began to get dressed. Mother had left my clothes for the day folded on a chair in my room. I examined the denim skirt that I was supposed to wear. It had pink and blue sequins sewn across the hems of two frilly layers at the bottom, and came with a frilly pink and blue shimmery belt with a fake-diamond rhinestone buckle. I remembered this skirt: I wore these all the time in second grade.

That means I must be seven years old now.

I stepped into the pants, thinking, _"I can't believe I have to wear this stupid skirt again._ "

Then I unfolded the shirt Mother had picked out for me.

My heart sank when I saw it: A pink shirt with a darker pink heart design printed on it, with the hem of the sleeves and neck sewn into a frill.

" _This is so embarrassing_ ", I thought.

How could I have ever let Mother do this to me?

However, I knew that deep down, I used to like these clothes. I probably picked them out myself at the time. But I couldn't stand to admit that I'd ever been so stupid wearing all this pink at once.

Downstairs, Tommy was still in his pajamas, watching cartoons. He was now three years old.

When he saw me pass through the living room, he held out her arms to me.

"Hug!" he called.

He wanted me to hug him?

That didn't seem like Tommy. But maybe the three-year-old Tommy was still sweet and innocent. Maybe Tommy was actually likable at this age.

"I want hug!" he begged.

"Give poor Tommy a hug," Mother called from the kitchen. "You're his big sister, Michelle. He looks up to you."

I sighed. "Okay."

I leaned down to give Tommy a hug, and when I did he grabbed my nose with one chubby hand, squeezed it and yanked it hard.

"Ow!" I shrieked.

Tommy laughed his head off.

Same old Tommy the Terrible.

I stumbled into the kitchen, one hand over my throbbing nose.

Tommy was just born bad! What a rotten kid!

This time at school, I knew which classroom to go to. There sat all my old friends, Manny and Jojo and everybody else, younger than ever.

I'd forgotten how dopey everybody used to look when we were little. Jojo had her haid curled and pulled onto two high ponytails. Manny had his hair gelled back.

I sat through another dull day of learning stuff I already knew. Subtraction and addition. How to read books with really big print. Perfecting my capital G and spelling words like "house" and "large".

But at least it gave me lots of time to think and to figure out what to do.

But I couldn't come up with an answer.

Then I remembered Father telling us he'd been wanting the cuckoo clock for fifteen years. Fifteen years!

That's it!

The clock must be at that antique store!

" _I'll go find the clock_ ," I decided.

I couldn't wait for school to end that day.

I figured if I could turn the cuckoo around, time would go forward again. I knew the dial that showed the year must be going backwards, too. All I had to do was reset the date on the clock to the right year, and I'd be fifteen again.

And I really missed being fifteen. Seven-year-olds don't get away with much. Someone's always watching you.

When the school day ended, I started down the block toward my house. I knew the crossing guard was watching me, making sure I'd get home safely. But at the second block, I dashed around the corner and hoped the crossing guard hadn't seen me.

I stood behind a tree, trying not to be seen.

When I was sure that I was safe, I began to run. I remembered hearing Father say that Anthony's Antiques was across the street from his office. I hoped he wouldn't see me. I knew I'd be in big trouble if he did. I wasn't allowed to walk by myself anywhere besides to school and home when I was seven.

I hurried past Father's building and crossed the street. Further down the block I saw a black sign with Anthony's Antiques and Stuff painted on it in gold letters.

My heart began to pound.

I'm almost there!

Soon everything would be alright again.

I'll just walk into the store and find the clock. Then, when no one's looking, I'll turn the cuckoo around and fix the year and I won't have to worry about waking up tomorrow morning as a three-year-old or something.

My life will go back to normal.

Life will seem so easy, when time is moving forward the way it's supposed to.

Even with Tommy around.

I gazed through the big plate-glass window of the shop. There it stood, right in the window. The clock.I hurried to the shop door and turned the handle.

It wouldn't move.

I jiggled it harder.

The door was locked.

Then I noticed a sign, tucked in the bottom corner of the door. It said, CLOSED FOR VACATION.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

 **Sorry for the shorter chapter!**

Chapter 13

I let out a howl of frustration.

"NOOO!" I cried.

Tears sprang to my eyes.

"No! Not after all this." I wailed and banged my head against the door.

I couldn't stand it. Closed for vacation.

How could I have such terrible luck?

How long was Anthony planning to be on vacation?

How long will the shop be closed? By the time it reopens, I could be a baby!

I gritted my teeth.

There's no way I'm letting that happen. No way!

I've got to do something.

 _Anything_.

I pressed my nose against the shop window. The cuckoo clock was standing there, two feet in front of me.

And I couldn't get to it.

The window stood between me and that clock.

The window…

Normally, I would never think of doing what I decided to do at that moment. But I was desperate. I had to reach that clock. It really was a matter of life and death!

I strolled down the block to the construction site, trying to look casual; trying not to look like a kid who was planning to break a shop window. I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my cowboy jeans and whistled. I was sort of grateful to be wearing this stupid outfit after all. It made me look innocent. Who would suspect a seven-year-old little girl in pink of trying to break into an antique shop?

I kicked around a little dirt at the construction site. Kicked a few rocks.

Nobody seemed to be working there.

Slowly, I made my way over to a pile of bricks and glanced around to see if anybody saw me. The coast was clear.

I picked up a brick and hefted it in my hand. It was very heavy. It wouldn't be easy for me, in my little second-grade body, to throw it far.

But I didn't have to throw it far. Just through the window.

I tried stuffing the brick in my backpack, but the combined weight of the brick with the books that I had in my bag was way too heavy and hurt my back a lot. So I carried it in both hands back to the shop.

I tried to look as if it were perfectly normal for a girl to be carrying a brick down the street. A few adults quickly passed by. No one gave me a second glance.

"And they say that teenagers never pay attention," I muttered to myself.

I stood in front of the shiny plate-glass window, weighing the brick in my hands. I wondered if a burglar alarm would go off when I broke the window.

Would I be arrested? Maybe it wouldn't matter. If I made time go to the present, I'd escape the police.

"Be brave," I told myself. "Go for it!"

With both hands, I raised the brick over my head…

…and someone grabbed me from behind.

"Help!" I screamed.

I spun around. "Mom!"

"Michelle, what are you doing here?" Mother demanded. "Are you by yourself?"

I let the brick fall to the sidewalk. She didn't seem to see it. Mother was holding two bags of groceries.

"I went home and didn't find you there," I lied. "I wanted to come find you."

She stared at me as if she didn't quite understand. So I added, for good measure, "I missed you, Mommy. I thought you left me."

She smiled. "You missed me?"

She was touched. I could tell.

"How did you get here?" she asked. "On the bus?"

I nodded. "You know you're not allowed to ride the bus by yourself," she said.

But she didn't sound angry. I knew that line about missing her would soften her up.

"And I thought I would have made it back by the time you got to school. I was just picking up some groceries for dinner." Mother said. "I left Tommy at home with the babysitter for a few hours."

Meanwhile, I still had the same major problem—getting my hands on the cuckoo clock.

Could Mom help me? Would she? I was willing to try anything.

"Mom," I said, "that clock-"

Mom put her arm around me. "Isn't it a beauty? Your father has been admiring it for years."

"Mom, I've got to get to the clock," I insisted. "It's very, very important! Do you know when the store will open again? We've gotta get that clock somehow!"

Mom misunderstood me.

She patted me on the head and said, "I know how you feel, Michelle. I like the clock too, and I wish I could have the clock right now. I know it would make your father extremely happy. But we can't afford it. Maybe someday…"

She pulled me away from the shop. "Come on, let's go home. I need to get started on making dinner for tonight."

I didn't say another word all the way home in the car. All I could think about was the clock and what would happen to me next.

" _How old will I be when I wake up tomorrow?_ " I wondered. " _Or rather...how young?"_

I was still silent when we arrived home.

Tommy was sitting in his high chair, banging a pot with a wooden spoon. The babysitter ran into the hall to greet us.

"Hello, Mrs. Webster! I see you picked up Michelle, I was wondering why she had been taking awhile to get home," she said.

"Actually Jennifer, Michelle went into town on the bus by herself. I found her trying to find me," Mother explained. "Why didn't you call me when you realized she was taking a long time to get home?"

Jennifer blushed. "Oh, you see Tommy had me a bit occupied. But since you're home now, I guess there's no use in me being here, so I'll just getting home now!"

She left in a hurry. I felt guilty because Jennifer got in trouble with my mother for something that I did on my own. Now that I think about it, I can't remember Jennifer ever coming back to babysit us.

"How was school Michelle?" my mother asked as she headed over to the kitchen.

Like before, the scene seemed familiar.

"I got the best grade in my class today, on our addition worksheet that we did yesterday," I told her.

I shrugged my purple backpack off, reached into it and pulled out a folder with a picture of a kitten playing with a ball of yarn.

"See?" I said, without actually wanting to. The words and actions just seemed to be spilling out, like at my birthday party. I pulled out a worksheet with basic addition problems that had a bright red check mark with a plus sign scribbled on it and a gold sticker plastered on the corner.

"That's nice sweetie," Mother said. "You can put it on the fridge."

I numbly allowed my feet to take me to the fridge, and put the paper on it with a plastic banana magnet.

I couldn't help feeling a small sense of pride. I couldn't remember the last time my mother actually recognized something that I had done. The focus was always on Tommy. At the time, he was about 2 or 3. I couldn't remember...or care.

About a few hours later, Father came home and dinner was ready. Not long after we sat down to eat, Tommy began squealing and squirming to get out of his high chair. He also dodged every attempt that my mother made to feed him.

"Alright Tommy," she finally sighed. "If you don't want to eat, you can explore a bit."

She lifted him up and put him down on the floor. I watched as he crawled to the refrigerator and he braced himself on it. He slowly pulled himself up and reached for my math paper with the gold star. He grabbed it and yanked it down.

"Tommy, no!" I cried, standing up.

Tommy let out a laugh and grabbed the other end of the paper with his free hand, then ripped it right through the middle.

"Tommy!" I yelled. "Look what you did!"

My parents stood up abruptly. For a minute, I thought they were going to grab him and scold him for doing that to my paper...but they had big bright smiles on their faces.

"Tommy, you're standing on your own!" my mother said, practically crying.

"Good job sport!" my father said, reaching for his flip phone. He pulled it out and began to take pictures.

Tommy laughed some more and continued to rip my paper, still leaning most of his weight on the refrigerator.

I felt so hurt and betrayed. I remembered now. I had worked so hard on that worksheet, which at the time had been pretty hard to add double digit numbers in the second grade.

And my parents didn't seem to care. They only cared that Tommy did something, which to me didn't count. He wasn't really standing, he was still leaning on the stupid fridge.

"But Mom, he ruined my paper!" I protested.

"Oh Michelle, don't make such a big deal about it," my mother said. "It's just a paper with a sticker."

"Be a good sister Michelle," my father said. "You need to encourage your brother. It's just a paper, nothing to cry about. Be mature about it."

I scowled and my mother frowned at me.

"Michelle, if you're going to be a poor sport, then finish your dinner or go to your room," she said, then turned back to Tommy.

"Yes...Mother," I said, and stomped out of the kitchen.

This was the day that I stopped calling my parents Mom and Dad. They became Mother and Father to me after that. I had figured that if they wanted me to be mature, then I would be. Mother and Father was more formal, and more fitting.

I didn't bother brushing the tears away as I went up to my room. I was a seven year old. How could my parents tell their seven year old daughter to be mature?

It was such a horrible thing to do!

I crawled into bed feeling miserable.

My brother was a monster.

My parents didn't care.

And I was trapped in a crazy time warp.

"I have to get back to normal," I told myself. "Tomorrow. I can't give up now."

No matter what I did, I couldn't change the past. Even if I was traveling through it.

But maybe I can change my future, and the only way to do that was to get back to it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 14

I had another nightmare that night. I was running through the hallway of my house, trying desperately to reach the door at the end of the hall, where my father's office was. Where this insane mess all began. But every time I thought that I was getting near the door, the hallway seemed to expand and the door was suddenly farther away. Looking back, I saw that the cuckoo clock was behind me. I watched in horror as the cuckoo bird sprung out, but instead of its usual beak and beady eyes, it was Tommy's laughing face.

I screamed and startled myself awake. I had been screaming in my sleep.

My mother burst in through the door.

"Shelly! What is it, sweetie?" she asked gently as she walked towards me.

She looked different than before. She was younger, her curly brown hair was shorter, and she didn't have her glasses on. Tugging at her white robes, she kneeled down a bit to meet my eye.

"Are you having bad dreams?" she asked.

I didn't reply.

"Oh, I know what it is," she said with a smile. "You're just excited cause it's your birthday tomorrow!"

She glanced down at the clock on my nightstand.

"Actually, it is tomorrow already," she pointed out and her smile grew. "Happy birthday Shelly! My big girl is six years old!"

I felt my eyes widen.

"Six?" I asked, my voice squeaking in panic.

I threw the blankets, jumped out of bed, and stared at my reflection. I felt horrified as I looked down at myself. I was wearing the pink Disney princess nightgown that I had always worn as a six-year-old.

I lifted my hands to my face and screamed.

"What's wrong princess?" my father asked, walking into my bedroom.

I looked at him startled, pointed at him and cried out "Hair!"

My father, who was balding by the time that I was fifteen, had a head full of dark brown hair again.

He raised his eyebrows at me.

"I can't be six," I said out loud to myself. "I'm fifteen!"

My mother chuckled. "Of course you're six!"

"No, I'm fifteen!" I replied stubbornly.

"Honey, it's her birthday. Let her be fifteen if she wants to," my father said with a laugh.

"What a minute," I said. "If I'm six, where's Tommy?"

"He's in his crib, sleeping," my mother said.

"How old is he?" I asked.

"Tommy?" my father asked. "Who's Tommy?"

"My brother!" I said.

My mother chuckled. "Oh..Tommy."

She turned to my father and smiled again before turning to me.

"Your little brother will be here in a few more months," mother said, patting her stomach. I stared at it. I hadn't noticed the bulge there before.

I looked around. This was Tommy's room. My room, the one I had when I was fifteen, was originally a guest room before Tommy came around.

Tommy was gone. He disappeared.

He wasn't even born yet.

Which means that I'm next.

My father looked down at me. "Alright Shelly, I think it's time for you to get back to bed."

"Time is going backward!" I cried.

"Imagination," my father muttered. "Honey we've got a writer on our hands."

He kneeled down to my level. "That would make a great science fiction story. Time going backward."

"Backwards," I repeated numbly. "The cuckoo head. I know that's it. I have to get to it and turn it back around!"

I pushed past my parents into the hallway.

"Michelle!" my mother called after me. "Michelle!"

My father ran after me and scooped me up.

"The cuckoo clock," I said. "I need to get to it!"

"The only thing you need to get is to bed," my father said. "The last thing we need is a grumpy birthday girl."

Against my will, my parents dragged me back to bed. I refused to go back to sleep because I didn't want to risk falling back further in time. I didn't know what was triggering each time change, and I didn't have much time left.

The next morning, my mother dressed me up in a pale blue dress with a bow in the back and white flats. She curled my brown hair, braided the face frame out of my face, and finished the look with a sparkly tiara with plastic pink and purple gems on it.

I frowned the whole time, feeling ridiculous. I didn't stop frowning even when the birthday party started.

A tall and blonde woman dressed in a glittery dress with fairy wings smiled down at me as I sat at the head of the table. My friends and classmates were there, chattering loudly.

"How about a smile from the birthday girl?" the fairy asked me.

I crossed my arms and kept on frowning.

"Great," I thought. "I'm a fifteen-year-old girl in the body of a six-year-old."

"Okay," the fairy said. "How about a wand?"

She tried to hand me a simple balloon with another balloon shaped like a star on it. I took my fork and stabbed the so-called wand, popping it.

"Hm," the fairy said. "How about a sword then? That way you can destroy whoever or whatever is making you feel so bad?"

I allowed myself to smile a little and took the balloon made sword. When the fairy turned, I tossed it onto the table and went back to scowling.

"What's wrong Michelle?" Manny asked.

I looked at him. He was so young now. They all were. Manny had his dark blond hair gelled and spiked up. Jojo's hair was cut short and she wore a pink headband with a flower attached to the side. Alma sat next to her with her hair up in a bun.

I had forgotten that Jojo didn't always have long flowy hair.

Manny had a balloon crown on the top of his head and was holding a balloon sword.

"I've got to get out of here," I told him. "I need to get down to the antique store."

"What's an antique?" Jojo asked. Her mouth was full of ice cream, and some of it dribbled down onto her butterfly printed dress. Back at six years old, she didn't care if she got chocolate on a nice dress. Too bad she couldn't keep that mindset as a fifteen-year-old.

I ignored her question. "I'm getting younger by the day."

"But it's your birthday," Manny pointed out. "You're getting older."

"You don't understand," I told him. "Today I'm six. Tomorrow I may be nothing."

"When you're nothing, can I have your birthday presents?" Alma asked.

"You can have them all right now," I said. "Just don't tell my mom where I'm going. I'm busting out of here."

Manny looked at me with concern as I stood up.

"I'm busting out of here," I said.

I ran off, ignoring Jojo when she asked, "Michelle, where are you going?"

Before I left the house, I quickly kicked off my flats and slipped on my sketchers sneakers instead.

The sun was hot on my back as I ran through the neighborhood and into town. I didn't stop or look back. I couldn't afford to be distracted.

I was down the street from the antique store when I heard a voice suddenly call out, "Hey kid!"

Pausing, I looked up at the older kid who had called to me.

He was kind of tall, looked to be about 18 years old and had thick blonde hair. He squinted his pale grey eyes at me. "Do you have the time? My watch broke."

I shook my head. "No, sorry!"

Turning away from the guy, I kept on running. I ran so fast that I nearly went past the antique store, but I quickly managed to stop and turn back around.

The cuckoo clock was there and I looked at it through the window.

" _Oh thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you_!" I thought to myself.

I went to the door and tried to go inside, but the door didn't budge. I didn't give up and jiggled the door, and even pushed hard on it. It still didn't move.

"Oh, no," I muttered to myself.

I looked up and saw a sign on the door that said: "Closed for vacation."

"NO! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" I yelled, no longer able to control my temper. "THIS IS THE SECOND TIME THAT YOU'RE ON VACATION WHEN I GET THE CHANCE TO SAVE MYSELF. YOU OWN AN ANTIQUE STORE, HOW DO YOU EVEN MANAGE TO AFFORD SO MANY VACATIONS IF NO ONE BUYS YOUR OVERPRICED JUNK?"

I kicked and pounded on the door as I screamed out loud. I was so busy throwing my temper tantrum, that I didn't realize that someone was standing behind me until they reached out and grabbed me.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 15

"What the heck are you doing, kid?" an angry voice asked.

I stopped hitting the door as the person who grabbed me turned me around. It was the guy from earlier.

"You're going to get into a lot of trouble for doing that," he said. "Knock it off."

I shrugged him off. "You don't understand, I need to get to that clock!"

He looked at me with surprise. "You mean the cuckoo clock?"

"Yes," I told him. "I"m trapped in time, and that's my only way to get back to my normal life!"

The guy gave me a blank look for a second before he burst into laughter.

I scowled. "I'm not crazy! I'm a fifteen-year-old in a six-year-old's body! Time is going backward and I'll disappear soon! My little brother is already back in the womb and I have a feeling that it won't be long until I'm next!"

He stopped laughing and gave me a serious look. "I believe you. That's why I'm laughing. I know what you're going through. That used to be my dad's clock until my mom convinced him to get rid of it, he's been trying to sell it through the antique store for years."

It suddenly dawned on me. "You're Michael."

Michael looked at me with surprise again. "How'd you know that?"

"My name is Michelle Webster," I said. "When my father first bought the clock, he told us some wild stories about it. He said that the previous owners had a son who went nuts about the clock stealing his sister, and that our Uncle Herman bought it but changed his mind. I remembered that Uncle Herman had a son, so I put two and two together. I just didn't think it was important"

"Michelle Webster, huh?" said Michael. "Didn't think I'd ever run into someone who got trapped in the same nightmare that I did, let alone a family member."

"You escaped, didn't you?" I said.

Michael shrugged. "I thought I did. But since you're here, I guess I really didn't. Ironically enough, I was just on my way to your little party, my mom was sending over this gift. Which now that I think about it, we should get going to. Your parents are going to flip if they find out you're gone."

He began walking in the direction of my house, but I hung back. I finally found someone who believed me and who could help me, and he wanted me to go back to my sixth birthday party?

"No," I said. "I'm so close."

"You really aren't," Michael said.

"Says who?" I asked.

"Says me, squirt," he replied. "Trust me on this."

"I'm not giving up!"

Michael paused. "I'm not telling you to give up. I'm telling you that you need to make sure that you won't screw up like I did."

I began following him. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "When I first traveled back, I was desprate. I was so desprate to get back to my twelve year old self, that I wasn't careful. Time is very fragile. And I messed up. I went so far back in time, that I became a toddler. When I finally got my chance to get back to my real time, I realized that something changed because of a small mistake I made. My sister, Tara, was suddenly never born. And I'm the only one who remembers her."

Michael glanced down at me. "You said your little brother went back into the womb?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but he's terrible. I call him Tommy the Terrible, that's how awful he is. He plays mean pranks and tricks and he ruins everything. I wouldn't mind him not being born."

"Don't say that," Michael snapped. "That's what I said about Tara. She was a monster, and at first, I was relieved that she was gone. But then the guilt started to pour in. Then the nightmares. Then the little things started to go south. Before she disappeared, Tara ruined my chance to be with a girl I really liked. When she was gone, the chance was still there and I took it. But the girl was honestly really awful to date. We ended up pretty badly. But all that could have been avoided because of Tara."

"Tommy ruined my chance with my crush too," I said.

"Maybe there's a reason," Michael said. "I guess Tara didn't like Mona for a reason. She almost saved me the trouble."

I didn't reply.

Did Tommy really save me trouble? I doubted it.

"I got beat up at school because of Tommy," I said. "And my parents didn't care."

"So did I," Michael smiled. "You're a little mini me, aren't you?"

I scowled. "I'm not really little. I'm fifteen, remember?"

"Not right now you arent," Micheal said. "But maybe we can get you back."

"How did you do it?" I asked.

"I turned the cuckoo's head back around," Michael said. "Then I turned the year dial back to the present one."

"Sounds easy," I said.

"It's not. The clock will try to prevent you from going back by using time against you. You only get a small window of opportunity to go back. When I first tried to go back, everything kept stopping me. Things like my parents catching me at the right time, or waking up when Anthony is closing up shop," Michael said. "But there's a pattern. The window will open when you take an action that will affect something from the future."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"My first opportinity came when I messed up Tara's birth," Michael said. "When I was climbing up a chair to reach the cuckoo bird, I knocked off Tara's birth year before I finally got to go back to the present."

"First?" I pointed out.

Micheal nodded grimly. "I tried to go back for her a few times, but it didn't work. Once you change something that big in the past, it's stuck forever. You only get one shot to change your life forever."

"So then how did you get back after you tried to save Tara?" I asked. "You said that I'll have my chance when I can make a big change."

"The next few times weren't as much of a struggle," Michael said. "I think that clock knows that I already made my choice, so it didn't let me make another one. But you still have a chance to set things right for yourself. Tara is gone forever, and I had to accept that it was my fault. It was my wish afterall."

"You wished that she wouldn't be born?" I asked.

"No. I wished that I could get her in trouble for at least once in my life," Michael said. "And to be fair, I did."

I felt myself go pale. "I wished for the same thing. For Tommy to be in trouble for once."

"That's not good," Michael said. "But it's not hopeless. You can still save him. Just be careful with what you say or do. The cuckoo clock is always watching you. It'll present you with a chance to make a final choice and then you can save yourself and your brother."

"So what do I have to do?" I asked.

"Keep trying to reach the clock. Beat it at it's own game," he said.

We arrived to my street and I looked down at my house. It looked like the party was still going on, but I could hear voices calling out, "Michelle! Where are you?"

"Come on, kid," Michael said. "Let's get you back to your party."

We made our way to my house.

"You only travel when you sleep. What I eventually learned was that all-nighters can help you stay in one time period for a bit longer, which can give you the chance to figure a way to the clock. I just don't know how you'll be able to pull that off as a little kid. And avoid naps, okay?"

I nodded.

"Give me your hand," he said.

I gave him a suspicious look and he rolled his eyes.

"They're going to wonder where you went. You're six right now. We can say you saw me wandering down the street looking lost and holding a gift, so you came over to me to ask if I was looking for your house," Michael explained.

He took my hand and I could'nt help but feel stupid. I haven't held hands to cross a street since I was eight.

As we walked up to our driveway, my parents rushed out.

"There you are! Michelle, you did you disappear like that?" Mother asked.

"She saw me wandering the street," Michael said. "She must have seen me carrying the gift and put two and two together. Smart kid."

"Michael Webster. We haven't seen you since you were a foot smaller!" Father said. "How are you doing?"

"Great," Michael said. "My parents couldn't make it to the party, so they sent me over with a gift for the birthday girl."

"Well, I'm sure she's going to love it," Mother said. "Why don't you come into the house for some cake?"

Michael grinned and nodded.

As we went into the house, my father spoke up. "I hope you don't mind hanging out with a bunch of first graders, Michael."

Michael looked down at me. "It's no bother. I have a feeling Michelle and I are going to get along great."


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 16

* * *

When we got back to my birthday party, Michael sat with my parents and helped himself to some cake. He didn't stay long; he ate, had small talk with my parents, handed me a gift and grabbed a candy bag on his way out. Before Michael left, he gave me a fist bump and muttered: "Remember: no naps and find an opening."

The rest of the party seemed to drag on. I felt exhausted by the time my mother ordered me to bed.

I did my absolute best to not fall asleep, but my eyelids eventually grew too heavy and I fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, everything had changed.

The walls were painted a baby pink. The bedspread and the curtains matched. The material was printed with little fairies with crowns and wands. On one wall hung a needlepoint picture of a butterfly. It wasn't my room, but it looked familiar.

Then I felt a lump in the bed. I reached under the kangaroo covers and pulled out Berry, my old teddy bear. I slowly processed everything before I finally understood what was going on. I was back in my old bedroom.

How had I ended up there? It was Tommy's room now.

I jumped out of bed. I was wearing Dora pajamas. I swear I don't remember ever liking Dora that much. I ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror.

How old was I now? I couldn't tell. I had to stand on the toilet seat to see my face, which was a bad sign. I finally managed to catch a glimpse.

Yikes.

I looked about five years old.

I hopped off the toilet seat and hurried downstairs.

"Hello, Shelly," Mother said, squeezing me and giving me a big kiss.

"Hi Mommy," I said.

I couldn't believe how babyish my voice sounded, it was so high pitched.

Father sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. He put down his mug when he saw me and held out his arms.

"Come give Daddy a good morning kiss," he said.

I sighed and forced myself to run into his arms and kiss him on the cheek. I'd forgotten how many stupid things little kids have to put up with.

I ran out of the kitchen on my little five-year-old legs, through the living room, into the den, and back to the kitchen. Someone was missing.

Tommy.

"Sit still for a minute, sweetie," Mother said, scooping me up and plopping me into a chair. "Want some cereal?"

I looked at her and didn't answer. She didn't have a bump like before.

Tommy hadn't been born yet. He wasn't even in the womb. He didn't exist.

For a brief moment, I felt a thrill. No Tommy! I could go through this whole day without ever having to deal with him and his awful tricks. How totally awesome! But then I remembered what Michael had told me about his sister and how losing her impacted his life big time.

But then the reality sank in.

One Webster kid had disappeared before, for good: Tara Webster, Michael's sister.

And now Tommy was gone.

Which meant that I was next.

* * *

After I'd finished my cereal, Mother took me upstairs to get dressed. I felt so stupid as she put on my shirt and pants and socks and shoes. She didn't tie the shoes, though.

"Okay, Shelly," she said. "Let's practice tying your shoes. Remember how we did it yesterday?" She took my shoelaces in her fingers and, as she tied them, chanted, "The bunny hops around the tree and ducks under the bush. Remember?"

She sat back to watch me try to tie my other shoe. I could tell by the look on her face she didn't expect me to get very far. I bent over and easily tied the shoe. I didn't have time to fool around with this stuff.

Mom stared at me in amazement.

"Come on, Mother. Let's get going," I said, straightening up. I didn't even bother to remember that I didn't call her "Mother" as a five-year-old.

"Shelly!" Mom cried. "You did it! You tied your shoe for the first time!" She grabbed me and hugged me hard. "Wait till I tell Daddy!"

I followed her downstairs, rolling my eyes. So I tied my shoe. Big deal!

"Honey!" Mom called. "Shelly tied her shoe all by herself!"

"Hey!" Father cried happily. He held up one hand so I could slap him five. "That's my big girl!" This time I saw him mouth to Mother: "Took her long enough!"

I was too worried to be insulted.

Mom walked me to kindergarten. She told my teacher that I'd learned to tie my shoe.

Big excited cheers were all around.

I had to sit around that stupid kindergarten all morning, finger-painting, and singing the ABC song. I knew I had to get back to that antique store. It was all I could think about.

" _I've got to change that cuckoo clock_ ," I thought desperately.

Who knows? Tomorrow I might not know how to walk.

But how would I get there? It had been hard enough to get downtown as a second-grader, and it had been harder as a six-year-old. As a kindergartner, it would be nearly impossible. And besides, even if I could get on the bus without anybody asking questions, I didn't have any money with me.

I glanced at the teacher's purse. Maybe I could steal a couple of quarters from her. She'd probably never know. But if she caught me, I'd be in really big trouble and I had enough trouble now.

I decided to sneak onto the bus somehow. I knew I could find a way.

When the kindergarten torture was finally over for the day, I raced out of the building to catch the bus-and bumped smack into Mother.

"Hi, Shelly," she said. "Did you have a nice day?"

I forgot that she picked me up every day from kindergarten. She took my hand in her iron grip.

There was no escape.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 17

Like before, I tried my absolute hardest to not fall asleep. I stared at the little clock on my bedroom wall and around 5 in the morning, I couldn't hold my eyes open anymore. I fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes again, the clock was still there, but it said that it was 8:00 AM.

I sat up and looked around. Almost everything was the same, but I knew that I still traveled back again. My pajamas were different again, and I could tell that I was smaller.

But at least I was still alive.

Time is running out.

Mother waltzed into my room, singing, "Good morning to you, good morning to you, good morning dear Shelly, good morning to you! Ready for nursery school?"

Yuck.

And nursery school meant that I was four-years-old now.

Things kept getting worse and worse.

* * *

Mother dropped me off at nursery school with a kiss and her usual, "Have a nice day, Shelly!"

I walked off to the nearest corner and sat there, watching the other little kids play. I refused to do anything. No singing, painting, sandbox, or games for me.

"Michelle, what's the matter with you today?" the teacher, Ms. Sharon, asked. "Don't you feel well?"

"I feel okay," I told her.

"Well, then, why aren't you playing?" She studied me for a minute, then added, "I think you need to play."

Without asking for my permission, she picked me up, carried me outside, and dropped me into the sandbox.

"Here. Manny will play with you," she said brightly.

Manny was adorable when he was four. Why didn't I remember that? His hair was combed and gelled to the side, and he wore jeans, a Spiderman T-shirt, and running shoes.

Manny didn't say anything to me. Instead, he concentrated on the sand igloo that he was building. Or at least I think it was supposed to be an igloo. It was round, anyway. I started to say hi to him, but suddenly felt shy.

Then I caught myself. Why should I feel bashful with a four-year-old boy? Anyway, I reasoned, he hasn't seen my Tommy-caused-trauma yet. That won't happen for another eleven years

"Hi, Manny," I said. I cringed when I heard the babyish nursery school voice that came out of my mouth. But everyone else seemed to be used to it.

"Hi Michelle," he mumbled. He hesitantly looked up at me before quickly looking back to his igloo.

I forgot he had been shy. Jojo was always the eccentric one.

Manny dug a moat around his sand igloo, then he stood up.

"Don't let anybody smash my sand castle," he said quietly.

So it wasn't an igloo. Guess I was wrong

"Okay," I agreed.

He toddled away. A few minutes later he returned, carrying a bucket and carefully poured a little water into his sand castle moat. How creative.

"I like your castle," I said.

He grinned shyly. "You can be the knight of the castle, since you protected it."

I couldn't help the smile that stretched onto my face.

"She can't be a knight, she's a girl!" a little voice said. We looked up to see Jojo and Alma standing there. Jojo was wearing a jean skirt with a pink shirt and a denim jacket. Her hair was in pigtails Alma was wearing a dress and tights, and her hair was in a high ponytail.

"Yes she can," Manny argued.

"No!" Alma said.

Jojo ignored their little fight. "Manny, can I be the princess?"

"Fine," Manny agreed. "Alma can be the troll that has you in the dungeons. Michelle is the knight and I'm the brave prince, trying to get the troll away."

I started laughing. I couldn't help it, it was too funny.

Alma scowled at me. "You're stupid," she said.

I shrugged. "At least I'm not a troll."

Manny and Jojo started laughing, and Alma scowled even more. She snatched up the bucket from the ground and dumped the rest of the water over me, leaving the bucket on my head.

Manny carefully picked the bucket off my head and put it on his own, tucking the strap under his chin.

"We will have our vengeance!" he declared.

Alma stood a few yards away from me, ready to run. "Nyah nyah!" she taunted. "Come and get me then!"

I pushed my wet hair out of my face and stared at Manny. He shrugged.

"You can't catch me!" Alma called.

What could we do? We had to chase after her.

I began to run. Alma screamed and raced to a tree by the playground fence, Jojo trailing along behind us.

Alma screamed again and ducked behind the tree. We stopped in front of the tree.

"Don't worry., we're not gonna hurt you," I assured her.

"Yes, you will!" Alma squealed. "Help!"

I sat down on the grass to prove I didn't want to hurt them. Jojo finally caught up to us and sat on the grass with me, not really knowing what was going on.

Alma suddenly jumped on top of me.

"Ow!" I cried.

She started tickling me, and Jojo joined in.

"Stop it!" I begged. It was torture. "Stop it!"

"You're not even brave like a knight!" Alma said, continuing her tickling. Jojo just kept giggling as her continued to tickle me as well. Manny awkwardly stood, looking at us.

I guess Alma was always annoying, but I didn't remember that Jojo was originally a follower rather than a leader. But I guess that changed when Jojo became more popular that Alma.

"I'll stop," Alma said. "But only if you promise something."

"What?"

"Maybe you can do a quest to prove that you're brave?" Jojo suggested.

Alma nodded."You have to climb that tree."

She pointed to the tree by the fence.

I stared at the tree. Climbing it wouldn't be such a big deal.

"Okay," I agreed. "Just get off me!"

Alma stood up and Jojo let go of my arms. I climbed to my feet and brushed the grass off my pants.

"You're scared," Alma taunted.

"I am not!" I replied.

What a brat! She was almost as bad as Tommy!

"You don't have to do it," Manny piped up. "Let's go back to my castle instead."

Now Alma began to chant, "Michelle is scared. Michelle is scared."

Jojo must have liked the way the chanting sounded, because she joined in.

I ignored them and grabbed the lowest branch of the tree and hauled myself up.

It was harder than I thought it would be. My four-year-old body wasn't very athletic.

"Michelle is scared. Michelle is scared," the girls kept chanting.

"Shut up!" I yelled down at them. "Can't you see that I'm climbing the stupid tree? It doesn't make sense to tease me about being scared."

They both gave me a blank look, as if they didn't understand what I was saying.

"Michelle is scared," they chanted again.

I sighed and kept climbing.

"You can do it Michelle!" Manny called out. "You're the knight remember?"

I felt my face grow red, but I assumed it was from the struggle of climbing the tree. My hands were so small, it was hard to grip the branches. My foot slipped, then a terrible thought popped into my head.

Wait a minute. I shouldn't be doing this.

Isn't nursery school the year I broke my ankle?

Yes. It was.

And I had also gone to the hospital from a concussion.

The branch I was holding onto snapped and I felt myself falling to the ground, then there was a second snapping sound before I felt a sharp pain on my ankle and another one on the back of my head.

I screamed, and so did Jojo, Alma, and Manny.

"Are you okay?" Manny kelt down on the ground, where I cried in pain.

"It wasn't my fault!" Alma said, also crying.

Jojo screamed out, "Ms. Sharon, Michelle fell!"

The pain was too much and I felt myself slipping.

I began to panic. I was getting a concussion from hitting my head.

If I fell asleep again, I'll travel again!

"Ms. Sharon, Michelle is falling asleep!" Manny said as the teacher and Jojo approached. I could still hear Alma crying.

"Oh no, she's dead!" Jojo wailed and started crying loudly.

That set Manny off and then he started crying too, and it was the last thing I heard before I totally blacked out.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 18

I yawned and opened my eyes.

"I'm alive," I thought to myself.

It was morning again. I shook my left ankle, the one I broke climbing that stupid tree. It felt fine. Perfectly normal. Completely healed.

I must have gone back in time again. It was probably because I got that bump on my head from falling and hitting my head. I guess that's the good part about this messed-up time thing: I didn't have to wait for my ankle to heal.

I wondered how far back I went.

The sun poured in through the window of Tommy's room. Or rather, my room. It cast a weird shadow across my face: a striped shadow. I tried to roll out of bed, but body slammed against something.

What was that? I rolled back to look.

Bars! I was surrounded by bars!

Was I in jail?

I looked up and saw some stuffed dinosaurs that were hanging from a device that was spinning them around. Then I caught a whiff of a foul smell.

" _Wait a minute,_ " I thought to myself. _"This isn't jail. This is a crib!_ "

Oh no!

I tried to sit up so I could see better. It wasn't as easy as usual. My stomach muscles seemed to have grown weak. Crumpled up beside me was my old yellow blankie with the embroidered rabbits on it. I sat beside a small pile of stuffed animals. I looked down at myself. My body shrunk massively. I was wearing a tiny white undershirt and, to my humiliation, a diaper.

I shut my eyes in horror.

How young am I now?

How far back did I go?

Mother came into the room. She looked pretty young, and had short blonde hair, and had bangs. I didn't remember ever seeing her this young before. I had only seen her with blonde hair like that in pictures; she had stopped bleaching it when I was very young.

" _I'll just explain to her,_ " I thought to myself. _"I'll tell her I want to go to the antique store._ "

I opened my mouth to tell her, but the only thing that I was able to say was "Mama."

Oh, great.

"Did you get lots of sleep, sweetheart?" Mother asked.

She clearly expected no answer from me. Instead, she shoved a bottle of juice into my mouth. Yuck!

I pulled it out of my mouth and clumsily threw it down.

Mother picked it up.

"No, no," she said, patiently. "Bad little Shelly. Drink your bottle now, come on."

She slid it back into my mouth. I was thirsty, so I drank the juice. It turned out that drinking from a bottle wasn't that bad, once you got used to it. Mother left the room after I drank about half of the juice. I let the bottle drop once she was gone. I had to know how old I was. I had to find out how much time I had left.

I reached up and grabbed the bars of the crib and pulled myself to my feet.

" _Okay_ ," I thought. _"I can stand."_

I took a step. I couldn't control my leg muscles very well, they felt very weak. I toddled around the crib.

" _I can walk,"_ I realized. _"Unsteadily, but at least I can walk. I must be about a year old!_ "

I fell just then and banged my head against the side of the crib. Tears welled in my eyes. I started wailing and bawling.

Mother ran into the room.

"What's the matter, Shelly? What happened?"

She picked me up and started patting me on the back. I couldn't stop crying. It was really embarrassing.

" _What am I going to do?_ " I thought desperately. _"In one night, I went back in time three years! I'm only one year old now. How old will I be tomorrow?"_

A little shiver ran down my tiny spine.

" _I've got to find a way to make time go forward again, and it has to be today!_ " I told myself. _"But what can I do? I'm not even in nursery school anymore. I'm a baby!"_

"Would a walk downtown make you feel better?" Mother asked me.

I immediately stopped crying and I started to smile.

" _Now we're getting somewhere,"_ I thought.

"Hmm...seems like it would. Well, in that case, we're going out," Mother said. "We can meet your papa on his lunch break and we can do some window shopping."

Yes! I felt my grin grow bigger. Then she uttered the dreaded words: "You probably need your diaper changed."

"No!" I cried. "No!"

"Oh, yes you do, Shelly. Come on…" she said.

I don't like to think about what happened after that. I'd rather block it out of my memory. I'm sure you understand.

When the worst was over, Mother plopped me down in a playpen while she bustled around the house.

I shook a rattle. I batted at a mobile hanging over my head. I watched it spin around. I pressed buttons on a plastic toy. Different noises came out when I pressed different buttons. A squeak. A honk. A moo.

I was bored out of my mind.

Then Mother picked me up again. She bundled me into a warm sweater and a dopey little-knit cap. Baby pink.

"Want to see Daddy?" she cooed at me. "Want to see Daddy and go shopping?"

"Da-da," I replied.

Actually, I had tried to say, "If you don't take me to Anthony's Antiques, I'll throw myself out of this playpen and crack my head open."

But I couldn't talk. It was so frustrating!

Mother carried me out to the car and strapped me into a baby seat in the back. I tried to say, "Not so tight!"

It came out, "No no no no no!"

"Don't give me a hard time now, Shelly," Mother said sharply. "I know you don't like your car seat, but it's the law."

She gave the strap an extra tug and then she drove into town.

" _At least there's a chance,"_ I thought. _"If we're going to meet Father, we'll be near the antique store. Maybe, just maybe._ "

Mother parked the car outside Father's office building. She unstrapped me from the car seat. I could move again. But not for long. She pulled a stroller out of the trunk, unfolded it, and strapped me in.

" _Being a baby really is like being a prisoner_ ," I thought as she wheeled me across the sidewalk. I never realized how awful it is.

It was lunchtime. A stream of workers flowed out of the office building. Father appeared and gave my mother a kiss. He looked a lot younger too, and his hair was curly and thicker than last time. He must have still been working as an assistant because he wore a simple button down shirt which was tucked into brown pants. I remembered that my father was promoted just in time for me to attend nursery school.

He squatted down to tickle me under the chin.

"There's my little seashell!" he said. I forgot that he used to call me "seashell". It was supposed to be a play on the name "Shelly".

"Can you say hi to your daddy?" Mother prompted me.

"Hi, Da-da," I gurgled.

"Hi, Shelly," Father said fondly. But when he stood up, he spoke quietly to Mother, as if I couldn't hear. "Shouldn't she be saying more words by now, honey? Jack Theodore's kid is Shelly's age, and he can say whole sentences. He can say 'lightbulb', and 'kitchen', and 'I want my teddy bear.'"

"Don't start that again," Mother whispered angrily. "Shelly is not slow."

I squirmed in my stroller, fuming. Slow! Who said I was slow?

"I didn't say she was slow, honey," Father went on. "I only said-"

"Yes, you did," Mother insisted. "The other night, when she stuffed those peas up her nose, you said you thought we should have her tested!"

Did I stuff peas up my nose?

I shuddered. Sure, stuffing peas up your nose is stupid. But I was only a baby. Wasn't Dad getting carried away?

I certainly thought so. I mean, I'm no genius, but I get mostly A's.

"Can we discuss this later?" Father said. "I've only got an hour for lunch. If we're going to find a dining room table, we'd better get moving."

"You brought it up," Mother sniffed. She wheeled the stroller smartly around and began to cross the street. Father followed us.

I let my eyes wander along the storefronts across the street.

An apartment building.

A pawnshop.

A coffee shop.

Then I found what I was looking for: Anthony's Antiques and Stuff.

My heart leaped. The store still existed!

I kept my eyes glued to that sign.

" _Please take me in there, Mother,_ " I silently prayed. _"Please, please, please!"_

Mom steered me down the street.

Past the apartment building.

Past the pawnshop.

Past the coffee shop

We stopped in front of Anthony's. Father stood in front of the window, hands in his pockets, gazing through the glass. Mother and I pulled up beside him. I couldn't believe it. Finally, after all this time, some good luck!

"Maybe we shouldn't go into Anthony's," Mother said. "They charge an arm and a leg."

" _So give them an arm and a leg then! You've got two of each!_ " I thought.

"We're just going to look," Father said. "Before we make up our minds."

I stared through the window, searching for the clock.

The window display was set up like an old-fashioned living room. My eyes roamed over the furniture: a wooden bookcase, a fringed table lamp, a Persian rug, an overstuffed armchair, and a clock… a table clock.

Not the cuckoo clock.

Not the right clock.

My heart sank back to its normal low spot in my chest. There I was, at the antique store, at last.

And the cuckoo clock wasn't there.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

* * *

Chapter 19

I felt like crying.

I could have easily cried, too. After all, I was a baby. People expected me to cry. But I didn't. Even though I looked like a baby, I was a fifteen-year-old inside. I still had my pride.

Father stepped to the door and held it open for Mother and me. Mother pushed me inside. I could only sit there, strapped into the stroller.

The shop was jammed with old furniture. A chubby man in his forties strolled down the aisle toward us. Behind him, down at the end of the aisle, in a corner at the back of the shop, I saw it. The clock.

The clock wasn't actually gone!

I still had a chance!

I remembered what Michael had told me: the clock likes to play games. It only gave small windows of opportunity. And this was it. My window of opportunity, finally.

A squeal of excitement popped out of me and I began to rock in my stroller.

"May I help you?" the man asked Mother and Father.

"We're looking for a dining room table," Mother told him.

I had to get out of that stroller. I had to get to that clock. I rocked harder, but it was no good. I was strapped in.

"Let me out of this thing!" I shouted.

Mother and Father turned to look at me.

"What's she saying?" Father asked.

"It sounded like 'La ma la ma'," the shopkeeper suggested.

I rocked harder than ever and screamed.

"She hates her stroller," Mother explained. She leaned down and unbuckled the straps. "I'll hold her for a few minutes. Maybe that'll make her less anxious."

I waited until she held me in her arms. Then I screamed again and wriggled as hard as I could. Father's face reddened. "Michelle, what is wrong with you?"

"Down! Down!" I yelled.

"All right," Mother muttered, setting me down on the floor. "Now please stop screaming."

I quieted down immediately. I tested my wobbly, chubby little legs. They wouldn't get me far, but they were all I had to work with.

"Please keep a close eye on her," the shopkeeper warned. "A lot of this stuff is breakable. A while back, another little baby wandered around lose in the shop and he nearly broke the cuckoo clock back there. Luckily, he didn't do much damage."

I nearly smiled. He was probably talking about Michael. That must have been the time that Michael first beat the clock.

Mother grabbed my hand. "Come on, Shelly. Let's go look at some tables."

She tried to lead me to a corner of the shop where several wooden tables stood. I whined and squirmed, hoping to get away but her grip was too tight.

"Michelle, shhh," she said.

I let her drag me to the tables. I glanced up at the cuckoo clock. It was almost noon. At noon, I knew, the cuckoo would pop out. It was my only chance to grab the bird and turn the head around.

I tugged on Mom's hand, but it only made her tightened her grip.

"What do you think of this one, honey?" Father asked her, rubbing his hand along a dark wood table.

"I think that wood's too dark for our chairs, Charlie," Mother said.

Then another table caught her eye. As she moved toward it, I tried to slip my hand out of hers.

Nothing.

I toddled after her to the second table. I shot another glance at the clock. The minute hand moved. Two minutes to twelve.

"We can't be too picky, Diane," Father said. "My supervisors are coming over on Saturday night. That's two days from now, for a dinner party. We can't have a dinner party without a dining room table!"

"I know that dear. But there's no point in buying a table we don't like," Mother said.

Fathers voice began to rise. "We need to settle for something that we can afford. As long as we have a table, it shouldn't matter."

Mother's mouth got that hard, set look to it. "It'll be more impressive if the table matches the chairs we already have. That way, we won't have to waste money on a whole new table later, or on a bunch of chairs when we already have some. Be practical, Charlie."

Aha.

A fight. This was my chance!

Father was shouting. "Why don't we just spread a blanket out on the floor and make them eat there? We'll call it a picnic! Maybe I'll get a promotion with that!"

Mother finally relaxed her grip on my hand. I slipped away and toddled as fast as I could toward the clock.

The clock's minute hand moved again. I toddled faster and lost my balance. I didn't give up and continued to crawl as fast as I could.

I heard my parents shouting at each other.

"I won't buy an ugly table, and that's that!" Mother snapped.

" _Please don't let them notice me,_ " I prayed. " _Not yet._ "

I reached the cuckoo clock at last. I stopped in front of it and stared up at the clock. The cuckoo's window was far above me, out of reach.

The minute hand clicked again.

The clock's gong sounded.

The cuckoo's window slid open and the cuckoo popped out.

It cuckooed once. Then twice.

I stared up at it, helpless.

I couldn't reach it. I was a fifteen-year-old girl, trapped in a baby's body.

I stared grimly up at the clock. Somehow, I had to reach that cuckoo. Somehow, I had to turn it around. I just had to. My life depended on it, and I was running out of time by the second. If I failed, there would be no more chances

And there would be no more Michelle Webster.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 20

 _Cuckoo! Cuckoo!_

I knew that once it reached twelve, I was doomed. The cuckoo bird would disappear and so would my last chance to save myself. In a day or so, I would disappear.

Disappear forever.

Frantic, I glanced around for a ladder, a chair, anything. The closest thing was a little step stool. I toddled over to it and pushed it toward the clock. It moved about an inch. I leaned into it, using my weight to push it. I figured I weighed about twenty pounds. But it was enough. The stool began to slide across the floor.

 _Cuckoo! Cuckoo!_

I shoved the step stool up against the clock. The height of the stool came up to my chest. I tried to pull myself up onto it but my arms were too weak. I bent my knees and pushed myself up into the air, doing a little jump.

Nothing.

I glanced around again, desperately. There was a book on the ground, a thick one. I toddled over and bent down, planting my hands on it and pushed. It steadily slid to the step stool. I straightened myself up and I stepped onto it, boosting myself. I grabbed at the opposite edge of the stool and pulled myself.

I made it!

 _Cuckoo! Cuckoo_!

I got to my knees and shakily rose to my feet. I reached up to grab the cuckoo stretching as tall as I could.

 _Cuckoo! Cuckoo!_

I reached up, my arms straining.

Almost there!

I was going to make it!

Then I heard the shopkeeper shout, "Stop! Grab that baby, don't let her touch the clock!"

Then I heard pounding footsteps. They were running to get me.

I strained to reach the cuckoo.

Just another inch…

 _Cuckoo!_

My mother grabbed me and she lifted me up. For one second, the cuckoo bird flashed within my reach. I grasped it and turned the head around.

 _Cuckoo!_

That was twelfth cuckoo.

The cuckoo slid back into the clock, facing the right way.

Forward.

I wriggled out of Mother's arms, landing on the stool.

"Shelly, what's gotten into you?" she cried.

She tried to grab me again but I dodged her. I reached around to the side of the clock and saw the little dial that told the year. I felt for the button that controlled it. I could just reach it, standing on the step stool.

I slammed my hand on the button, carefully watching the years whiz by. I heard the shopkeeper yelling, "Get that baby away from my clock!"

This time my father reached out and grabbed me, but I screamed. I screamed so loudly, it startled him and he let his hands drop.

"Shelly, let go of that!" Mother ordered.

I took my hand off the button when the dial showed the right year.

The present year.

The year I turned fifteen.

Mother made another grab for me. This time I let her pick me up and I leaned onto her, feeling exhausted.

" _It doesn't matter what happens now,_ " I thought. _"Either the clock will work, and I'll go back to being fifteen again...or else it won't work."_

And then what?

Then I'll disappear.

Vanish in time.

Forever.

I waited.

"I'm so sorry," Father said to the shopkeeper. "I hope our daughter didn't damage the clock."

I waited for something to happen. But nothing was happening.

My body tensed.

Nothing.

I waited another minute.

The shopkeeper inspected the clock.

"Everything seems okay," he told my parents. "But she changed the year. I'll have to change it back."

"NO!" I wailed. "No! Don't!"

"That little girl could use a little discipline if you ask me," the shopkeeper said. "In fact, all children these days do. There was another little kid who messed with the clock some years back. Hope you aren't related."

He reached his hand around the side of the clock and started to set back the year.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 21

"Nooo!" I wailed. "Nooo!"

That's it.

I'm doomed.

I failed.

But the shopkeeper never touched the button.

A bright white light flashed.

I felt dizzy. Stunned, I blinked. My eyes were still blurry, and I blinked again. Several seconds passed before I could see anything. I felt cool, damp air. I smelled a musty odor.

A garage smell.

"Michelle? Do you like it?" Fathers voice spoke.

I blinked again and my eyes adjusted. I saw my parents.

Looking older.

Looking normal.

We were standing in the garage, in front of the car that they gave me on my fifteenth birthday.

Mother frowned. "Michael, are you feeling alright?"

They were giving me the car. It was my birthday.

The clock worked!

I brought myself back to the present!

Almost to the present anyway. Up to my fifteenth birthday. Close enough.

I felt so happy, I thought I'd explode. I threw myself at my mother and hugged her hard. Then I hugged my father.

"Wow," Father gushed. "I guess you really do like the car!"

I grinned.

"I love it!" I exclaimed. "I love everything! I love the whole world!"

Mainly, I loved being fifteen again.

I could walk!

I could talk!

I could ride the bus by myself!

Whoa!

" _Wait a minute_ ", I thought. " _It's my birthday. Don't tell me I have to live through it again._ "

I tensed my shoulders and steeled myself for the horrible day to come.

" _It's worth it,_ " I told myself. _"It's worth it if it means time will go forward again, the way it's supposed to."_

I knew too well what would happen next.

Tommy.

He was going to climb onto my car. Then he'd fall off and damage the car in the process.

" _Okay, Tommy_ ," I thought. " _I'm ready. Come and do your worst._ "

I waited.

Tommy didn't come.

In fact, he didn't seem to be around at all. He wasn't in the garage. No sign of him.

I started getting a weird feeling in my stomach.

Mother and Father kept gushing over the car. They didn't act as if anything was wrong. Or that anyone was missing.

"Where's Tommy?" I asked them.

They looked up. "Who?"

They stared at me.

"Did you invite him to your party?" Mother asked. "I don't remember sending an invitation to a Tommy."

Father looked at me. "Tommy? Is that some boy that you have a crush on, Michelle?"

"No!" I answered, turning red.

It was as if they'd never heard of Tommy. Never heard of their own son.

"You'd better go upstairs and get ready for your party, Michelle," Mother suggested. "Your friends will be here soon."

"Okay." I stumbled into the house, dazed.

"Tommy?" I called.

Silence.

Could he be hiding somewhere?

I searched through the house. Then I checked his room. I threw open the door. I expected to see a messy, 11-year-old boy's room.

Instead, I saw two twin beds, neatly made with plaid covers, a chair., and an empty closet. No personal stuff.

Not Tommy's room. A guest room.

I felt chills run down my spine.

No Tommy. Tommy doesn't exist. How did that happen? I had been careful when I had reset the clock. I had followed Michael's instructions.

So how?

I wandered into the den, looking for the cuckoo clock. It wasn't there. For a second, I felt a shock of fear. Then I calmed down because I remembered. We didn't have the clock yet. Not on my birthday. Father bought it a couple of days later.

But I still didn't understand. What had happened to my little brother?

Where was Tommy?


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 22

My friends arrived for the party. We played music and ate hot dogs and chips.

Tommy wasn't there to embarrass me. It made a big difference. My friends all brought presents. I actually opened them myself. No Tommy to open my presents before I get to them.

When I opened my gift from Manny, I said: "Thank you, I really like it."

He nodded politely.

And that was that.

At cake time, I carried the cake outside and set it in the middle of the table. No problem. I didn't fall and make a fool out of myself. Because Tommy wasn't there to trip me. It should have been greatest birthday party I'd ever had. Because Tommy wasn't there to ruin it. And though I did have fun, there was a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach that wouldn't go away no matter how good the cake and ice cream was.

The funny feeling continued even after the party and I finally figured it out when a few days later, the cuckoo clock was delivered to our house.

It was guilt.

The second that I saw the clock, it grew stronger. Guilt kept clawing at me until I felt like I was choking as I kept staring at the clock.

"Isn't it great?" Father gushed, as he had the first time. "Anthony sold me the clock cheap. He said he'd discovered a tiny flaw on it."

The flaw. I'd almost forgotten about it.

We knew what it was. But I couldn't help wondering if it had something to do with Tommy's disappearance.

Maybe the clock didn't work perfectly in some way?

Maybe it somehow left Tommy behind?

I hardly dared to touch the clock. I didn't want to set off any more weird time trips. But I had to know what had happened. I carefully studied the face of the clock again, and all the decorations. Then I stared at the dial that showed the year. It was properly set at the current year. Without really thinking about it, I scanned fifteen places down the dial to find the year I was born. There it was, 2003.

Then I scanned back up to Tommy's birth year. Maybe what happened to Tara Webster had happened to him. But it was there.

2007.

I frowned.

"The year 1996 is the only year missing," I said out loud. "That's the only flaw."

Mother patted me on the back. "Good job, Shelly! Wow, isn't that funny?"

To her, it was just a funny mistake. She had no idea that her son had never been born.

So how was Tommy gone then?

I thought back carefully, trying to remember.

The cuckoo bird slid out and it seemed to glare at me as it rang. I looked up at it and I remembered: When I had messed with it the first time, I was angry. I was wishing that I could get revenge on Tommy, that he would finally stop being such a pest.

What if that was it?

Oh no!

The clock was definitely magic. I knew that much since it had stuck me in a time warp. But what if it took my wish too literal?

Tommy stopped being a pest because he stopped existing!

I remembered what Michael had said: Time is fragile. Any little thing in the past could make a difference.

Walking up to my room, I began to think about a plan. Michael was right, the guilt was almost unbearable. It was definitely too much for me to handle and it had only been a few days. I had to go back for Tommy, and I had a plan to do it.

But I was going to need some help.


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

Chapter 23

The next morning, I woke up early and snuck out of the house to pay Michael a visit. When I arrived, I wasted no time ringing the doorbell several times in a row. There were footsteps on the other side of the door before it was flung open by Michael, who was clearly not pleased about being woken up. However, his face changed from annoyed to surprised when he saw me.

"You did it," he stated simply. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

I frowned. "You knew I was coming?"

"I figured that I'd see you when you got back from your time trip," Michael said. "But unlike you, I waited years to see the outcome. I'm assuming that it's only been a few days for you since your sixth birthday party?"

"Yeah," I said. "But I didn't beat the clock. Tommy's gone."

"Your brother?" he asked grimly.

"Yes."

He took a step back and opened the door wider. "Come on in."

A few minutes later, I was sitting down at Michael's kitchen counter with a glass of orange juice and a few chocolate cookies in front of me. He insisted that I needed it, and since I had skipped breakfast, I didn't argue.

"How did you get back?" he asked.

"I nearly didn't. I was a one year old, and I had to scale the stupid clock in the middle of the antique store," I said.

He let out a snort. "Let me guess: Anthony was angry, told your parents that you needed to be disciplined better and nearly changed the clock settings back."

I paused. "Yes, actually. How'd you know?"

"It happened to me too," Michael said.

"Funny how things work," I said. "But anyway, when I got back, Tommy was just gone. He doesn't exist anymore. I checked the clock when my father brought it home again, but the only year missing is still 1996. Tommy's birth year was 2007, and it's still on there."

Michael frowned and stayed silent for a minute.

"I thought that's why Tara had been taken," Michael said slowly. "And it probably still is. But I don't have any idea on why your brother was."

"Well, I need to figure it out," I said. "Because I'm going back to get him."

My cousin stared at me. "Do you realize how much you're jeopardizing if you do that?"

"Yes," I said. "But I can't deal with the guilt. It's weird, I don't know why I feel like this. I thought I hated Tommy, but for some reason...I miss him."

Michael sighed. "Alright, fine."

I grinned. "You're going to help me figure it out?"

"I'm going to do more than that," Michael said. "I'm going to go back with you."


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

 **Thank you to all of you who have been waiting for an update**

Chapter 24

 _Ding dong!_

"Charlie, can you get the door?" Mother called out from the kitchen.

"I'm a little busy," Father responded from his study. "Michelle, get the door!"

I didn't have a problem with that. I knew who was waiting on our porch because I was the one who told him to come right before we sat down for dinner.

Sure enough, when I opened the door, Michael stood there looking as calm as he could.

"Come on in," I told him. "You're right on time."

He followed me into the house and into the kitchen.

"Hey, look who's here," I said.

My mother looked up from the chicken she was shredding and exclaimed, "Michael! What a lovely surprise! What brings you here?"

"I was just passing through the neighborhood," Michael said. "And I decided to stop by. It's been a while since I've seen you guys."

"That's wonderful," Mother said. "Michelle, do you remember your cousin? He was at the family barbeque that we had a few months ago."

"Sure I do," I said. "Can he stay for dinner?"

Mother glanced down at the chicken she was shredding up, then back up. "I was originally making a new recipe that I found online, but I can make chicken tacos instead. Does that sound alright?"

"It sounds amazing," I said. "We'll go set the table."

When we were out of earshot, I muttered, "Not only are you helping me save my brother, you also saved us from a horrible dinner. My mother is awful when it comes to making new food!"

Michael chuckled and began arranging the plates onto the table.

Dinner went by smoothly. My mother had conversations with Michael about food. It turns out that his mom used to cook really healthy foods too. Eventually, Michael brought up an antique knife set, and that led to a conversation about other antiques, which eventually led to the clock.

"I was able to score a marvelous antique clock from Anthony's Antiques," Father said. "It was sold to me for a good price. It was actually someone from the family."

"Are you talking about that cuckoo clock?" Michael asked.

"Yes!" Father exclaimed.

"Ah, I remember that," Michael said. "It belonged to my father at one point."

"Really? That's funny! I guess some things really do run in the family," Mother said. "Why did your father part with it?"

"My mom wasn't a big fan of it," Michael said. "She says that it used to scare me as a kid and that I would create crazy stories from the nightmares the cuckoo bird gave me."

"I understand. Children do come up with wild stories," Mother said. "They're so full of imagination. Michelle never really came up with stories, though. Shame, I'm sure I would have been amused by them if she had."

Michael glanced at me. "I'm sure."

I bit my tongue really hard and smiled through my teeth. Here she was, my Mother, the woman who scolded me harshly for years for "telling wild stories", saying that she would have been amused by them. When Tommy was still around, she was definitely _not_ amused! I felt a surge of anger and resentment, and I nearly told Michael: "Never mind, we're good. Tommy can stay lost!" but I didn't. When that thought crossed my mind, I felt another pang of guilt.

Getting rid of Tommy through time felt as if I had murdered my own little brother.

Speaking of Tommy.

"Would you like to take a look at the clock?" my father asked Michael.

"That would be awesome," Michael said.

Yes!

My mother stood and began to clear the dishes.

"I'll show Michael the clock," I said, standing up quickly. "You can help Mother with the dishes."

My parents paused.

"That's funny," Mother said. "You usually call me Mom. Where did Mother come from?"

It took me a second to process it before I remembered: I began to speak to my parents formally by calling them Mother and Father out of resentment for what the way they treated me when Tommy was alive. But in this timeline, Tommy was never around to give me that reason.

"Sorry," I said. "It just slipped out."

Father shrugged. "It happens. Go ahead and take a look at the clock, kids. I'll head your way in a second."

"Okay...Dad," I said.

Michael began to follow me through the kitchen and to the hallway.

"Are you ready?" Michael asked.

"I'm as ready as I could be," I said.

I led him into my father's study to where the clock was standing.

It stood there, eerily silent. Just looking at it gave me goosebumps.

"It'll be 8 o'clock soon," he said. "Get ready to grab onto it."

He reached over and ran his fingers gently on the trimming of the clock, just underneath the doors of the cuckoo bird. There was a small "click" sound, and the face of the clock suddenly swung open, revealing another clock face. The numbers stuck out a little and there were two tiny switches in the center.

Startled, I gaped at it. It didn't even phase Micheal.

"This is how it's going to work," Michael said. "Each of these numbers is a button. Press it once, and you'll go back a set of minutes that the number represents. Twice is hours. Three times for days. Four times for weeks and five times for months. Six times will take you back years. It goes on like that in sets. Next would be decades, then what I assume are centuries. Never go beyond decades, and always stay within the year limits."

"Okay," I muttered. Seemed simple enough.

"Next, you flick both switches down to go back in time," Michael said.

"What about forwards?" I asked.

"Then you switch them and turn them up," he said. "To remain the present time, or the time that you are in, you leave the left switch down and the one on the right going up. They represent the timeline."

I nodded slowly.

"I'll explain everything in detail later. Right now, we're running out of time, ironically enough. Your dad is going to walk in soon," he said. "We have about a minute left. Get ready to grab the bird."

He reached up to the hidden clock face and pushed the number 11, six times. Then he switched both switches down and shut the outside clock face back over the hidden one.

"Is that it?" I asked.

"For time traveling, yes," Michael said. "I haven't actually messed with it enough to find out if it's got any other crazy things going on. And I don't think I want to find out anyway."

The minute hand on the clock shifted, and the hour hand got closer to the 8.

 _One minute._

I walked to the door, closed it, and locked it. If my father came in before the clock struck 8 and saw us messing with the clock, he'd freak. I didn't want to take the chance that he'd interfere.

Sure enough, I heard my father's footsteps walking up to the door.

Father began to open the door and jiggle the doorknob. "Hey! Michelle, are you in there? Why is the door locked?"

"Michelle? Open the door," Father's voice said. "I hope you two aren't messing with the clock in there."

"Michelle! I'm not playing around," Father said, sounding more upset.

There was a sound of jingling keys. He was looking for the key to the study room.

 _Cuckoo!_

The clock had finally struck 8.

"Now!" Michael said.

I threw my hand up and grabbed onto the body of the bird. Michael grabbed the head and twisted it around, turning it anticlockwise, all the way around. We kept our grip on the bird as it cuckooed four more times. We had four more cuckoos to go.

 _Cuckoo!_ That was five.

The doorknob made a clicking sound as my father began to unlock the door.

 _Four._

The door unlocked.

 _Three._

The door swung open and my Father burst in.

 _Two_

"Hey! Get away from that clock!" Father yelled, rushing towards us.

"I'm sorry!" I said, and I shut my eyes. The clock cuckooed a final time.

 _One._


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

 **Thank you to all of you who have been waiting for an update**

Chapter 25

There was a ringing in my ears and my head throbbed. I felt dizzy as if I had just gotten off the whirl ride at the amusement park. I felt light on my feet as if the ground had disappeared, but I didn't feel like I was falling; I felt as if I was floating.

The floating feeling only lasted a few seconds, before I finally felt grounded again. I waited a few seconds before opening my eyes as my legs gave out.

I landed hard on the ground, dazed. It took a few minutes for me to recognize where I was.

We weren't in my house anymore. Instead, we were in Anthony's Antique Shop. I looked at Michael and blinked hard. He didn't look like himself.

His hair was a few inches longer, he wasn't as broad, and he looked younger. He was wearing a Green Day t-shirt and torn jeans.

I looked down at myself. I was a lot smaller and was wearing a yellow dress with little red flowers sewn on the hems.

Michael looked down at me. "Wow, this really did a number on you. How old are you now?"

"Five, I think. Maybe four," I said, cringing at my babyish voice. "What about you?"

"Sixteen," he replied.

I rolled my eyes. "Must be nice."

As I began to stand up, I felt a nasty sharp pain stab at my ankle and I yelped. I looked down at my throbbing ankle, which was in a brace.

I groaned and Michael looked at me questioningly.

"Four," I said. "Definitely four. I broke my ankle after falling out of a tree in nursery school."

He snickered and made his way through the store.

As we exited through the store's exit, we went over the plan. It was simple. Maybe too simple. But time is fragile, any little thing can change it. So that's what we were going to do. We just had to play the parts right.

It was barely getting dark. Michael and I walked through town towards my house. When we grew closer, I heard my mother's voice calling my name.

"Shelly! Michelle! It's time to come inside!" she was saying.

"Great. Curfew," I muttered.

Michael suddenly reached down and picked me up.

I shrieked. "What the heck are you doing?"

"You're a tiny four-year-old with tiny legs, one which is injured. We're wasting time if we keep walking this slowly," he said. "Besides, we can use this to our advantage."

He made a good point. With him carrying me, we were able to travel at a faster pace and we covered more ground. We made it up to my driveway in minutes.

My mother spotted us from the porch.

"Oh, Michael! What a lovely surprise!" she exclaimed.

She seemed to always say that every time she saw Michael.

"Hey Aunt Diane," Michael said casually. "It's good to see you."

"I see you found my daughter," Mother said.

"Yeah, she was hobbling up the street and I recognized her. I thought she could use a hand getting back up here when I noticed her brace," Michael said.

He carefully set me back down on the ground.

"I'm surprised she even recognized you," Mother said.

"She's a smart kid," he replied, nudging me a little.

I grinned as brightly as I could at my mother.

"Michael is really nice," I said. "He's like a big brother."

My mother smiled at the two of us. "Sounds like you two have a special bond."

"Yup! I wanna have a little brother so that I can be nice to him like Michael is to me," I said.

Mother paused. "You want a what?"

"A little brother!" I repeated, smiling brightly.

She blinked but gave me a little smile. Then she looked at Michael, who just shrugged.

"As an only child, I can guarantee that being an only child can get pretty lonely," he said.

Mother smiled at him before turning back to me.

"Well Shelly, it's time for you to get ready for bed," she said. "Have a good night Michael. Thank you for helping her get back home."

"No problem," Michael said. "Bye Michelle. See you later."

He winked at me and made his way down the street.

Mother took me by the hand and walked me into the house.

After she got me readied up for bed, she tucked me in and said good night. Before she could walk out the door, I spoke up.

"Mommy?"

"Yes?" she asked, pausing.

"When my brother gets here, you should name him Thomas," I said.

"Thomas? Why Thomas?" she asked, puzzled.

"So that we can call him Tommy," I said. "I like that name a lot."

Mother blinked again and gave me another little smile. "Sweet dreams honey."

She turned and left the room.

I laid in bed, waiting.

I waited for about ten minutes before I got out of bed. I tiptoed carefully to the door and made my way down the hall to my parent's bedroom. I paused outside their door, listening very carefully as my parents spoke.

"You alright Diane?" my father asked. "You look a bit spaced out."

"Yes, I was just thinking about Michelle. She just asked me for something," Mother said.

"What did she ask for? A pony?" Father chuckled.

"Actually, she asked for a little brother," Mother said, and Father stopped laughing.

"A brother? Where did that come from?" he asked.

Mother explained how Michael "helped" me and how I had requested for a brother.

Father stayed silent for a moment.

"You know, Michael does have a good point," Father said. "Being an only child does get lonely."

"What are you saying, Charlie?" Mother asked.

"I'm saying, that maybe we ought to give it a try," he said. "We can't guarantee that we'll come up with a brother, but a sister wouldn't be a bad thing either. Michelle could have someone to play with and who she can maybe relate to."

"What about you? What do you feel about this?" Mother asked.

"Well, I wouldn't mind expanding our little family," Father said. "After all, one more shouldn't be too bad."

My parents paused.

"You know, Michelle already picked a name out," Mother said.

"Which is?"

"Thomas, so that we can call him Tommy," Mother said. "You know, I actually like the name Thomas. And Tommy is a cute nickname too."

Father laughed. "Shelly and Tommy. That's quite the pair. But Thomas Webster has a nice ring to it. I like it."

"I guess it's unanimous," Mother said. "I'll set up an appointment with the doctor tomorrow to see if we have a chance of having another little one."

I quietly backed up from the door and snuck back to my room, grinning.

It worked!

Now I just have to sneak out of the house to meet Michael so that we can get back to the clock.

I glanced down at my foot and scowled. This wasn't going to be easy.

The clock on my nightstand read 9:30 pm. I waited until it changed to 9:45 pm, to make sure my parents were asleep. I didn't want to rush into things and get caught.

I slowly opened my bedroom door and listened. I could hear my father's snoring.

Perfect.

Carefully, I made my way down the stairs, step by step. Once I reached the downstairs hallway, I got on my hands and knees. Crawling carefully, I went down the hall and into the kitchen. Sneaking out of the house this way was easier because the sliding door in the kitchen was a lot quieter than the front door. I held my breath as I slowly slid the sliding door open, crept through it, and closed it again. Then I slowly stood up and limped around the house and down the driveway as fast as I could.

As I started to head down the street, I something sprang at me from behind a parked car.

I began to let out a shriek when a hand clamped over my mouth.

"Quiet! We'll get caught," Michael muttered.

I rolled my eyes as he let go. "You scared me."

"Did it work?" Michael asked.

"I think so," I said. "My parents were talking about it. But I'm not sure. What if they change their minds?"

"Only one way to find out," Michael said.

Michael ended up carrying me again. I didn't bother to argue this time. We got there faster that way, and my four-year-old body was exhausted from being up so late. Plus, my stupid ankle was starting to throb painfully.

When we arrived at the Antique Store, he set me down. We had about 7 minutes to get into the store and set the clock for our travel before the clock struck 10. If we missed it, we would have to wait until 11:00 and I did not want to spend a whole hour in the dark and creepy store.

"How are we going to get inside?" I asked.

Michael reached down and picked up a rock. Then he slammed it into the small window on the door.

"What are you doing?" I squeaked. "You're going to set off the alarm!"

"It's a silent one," Michael said. He slid his hand through the broken glass and turned the doorknob. "We have about 5 minutes to travel back before the cops arrive."

He opened the door and reached down to grab me again. He carried me on his back through the store until we reached the clock.

He didn't bother to set me down as he once again began to fiddling with the clock to reveal the hidden part within the clock.

"I can barely see," he said. "This might take a little longer than a minute. We'll barely make it."

"It wasn't so dark in here when we first came in," I said.

"It's the clock," he muttered. "It's trying to stop us."

I felt my goosebumps erupt on my skin. The clock was somehow making it darker so that we would fail. It was toying with us again.

It didn't remain dark for too long, because there was a sudden burst of blue and red lights.

"Oh no!" I wailed.

"Hold on," Michael said. "I'm almost done. The lights are actually helping me see better."

He quickly pushed the number eleven, six times. He flipped the switches to face up. As he finished, the clock struck 10 and the cuckoo bird came out.

 _Cuckoo!_

 _Cuckoo!_

"Quick, grab it!" Michael said, and he took a hold on it.

I reached up and grabbed the head of the bird. I twisted it's creepy little head clockwise, all the way around until it faced forward again. During this, it cuckooed four more times.

 _Cuckoo!_

As it rang, we heard the door burst open.

"Police! Come out and show us your hands!" a voice yelled.

There were footsteps as the cops made their way through the store.

 _Cuckoo!_

We just needed one more, and we'd be safe.

"Stop what you're doing!" a policeman yelled. "Back away from the clock!"

Michael froze and my stomach lurched.

They were right behind us.

 _Cuckoo!_

They were too late.

 _Cuckoo!_

I closed my eyes.


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goosebumps/The Cuckoo Clock of Doom or any of RL Stine's original characters. I do not own the original idea for this fic, I am writing this fic on a request for retro mania. I only own a few of my own original ideas that are in here. I also used the original book as a guide and put in a few episode references.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (and reviews are always welcome!)**

 **Thank you to all of you who have been waiting for an update**

 **ALSO: I noticed a review and have received a few PM's that were questioning if Michelle and Michael were going to end up together/ if they like each other. The answer is no. They're cousins. It was stated earlier on when they first met, and several times throughout the story that they are cousins. In the present time, Michael is in his mid-twenties, Michelle is fifteen. They're too far apart in age for it to be legal. I do not agree with incest, even if they're cousins and not siblings. I also do not agree with pedophilia. An older guy being interested in his fifteen-year-old cousin is gross. However, he definitely does care about her because she's family and because she's going through the same trauma that he went through. He's simply helping his family member out with a difficult and scary situation.**

 **Thank you, and enjoy the chapter.**

Chapter 26

"Ta-da!"

A familiar voice rang out, cutting off the ringing in my ears. I caught the scent of a familiar musty scent.

I opened my eyes, and I could see a blurry image of my parents standing in front of me.

"Do you like it?" Father asked.

I blinked hard a few times and everything went back into focus.

"Michelle? Are you feeling okay?" my mother asked.

I realized that I hadn't reacted to the car as they had expected.

"Yes! I love it, thanks!" I said, hugging them both tightly. "Sorry, I was just getting a bit emotional. I'm fine."

I suddenly heard a loud snap and a thump. I looked up and my parents turned around.

Tommy was on the ground, pouting.

"Tommy!" I cried.

He looked up, scowling until it turned into a surprised expression when I rushed forward and hugged him.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Not really," he choked out. "I can't breathe!"

"Oops. Sorry," I said, letting him go.

My parents wore similar surprised expressions as Tommy.

"Why are you hugging me anyway?" Tommy asked. "I totally just messed up your car."

"Oh, it's not so bad," I said. "We can get car parts and paint anytime. We can't really replace you."

"Even so," Father said. "Tommy, that was very foolish of you. Not only could you have gotten hurt, but you also damaged your sister's car."

Wait, what?

"Tommy, you are to stay inside the house during Michelle's party," Mother said. "I know you meant no harm to your sister's car, but you shouldn't have climbed up there in the first place."

"Aw, Mom! I don't want to stay inside the house," Tommy complained.

I couldn't believe my eyes and ears. My parents rarely scold Tommy, and this definitely didn't happen the last two times that I lived through this situation. So why is it different this time?

We exited the garage to finish preparing for the party.

The party went by a lot more smoothly than before.

When Jojo, Manny, and Alma arrived, I greeted them politely. It was way less enthusiastic as the first two times. It was just hard to look at them just as popular kids after reliving our childhoods together. Especially seeing what they were like when we were all so young.

We ate the food, we drank punch, and we listened to music. Somehow, it went with no interruptions. Tommy was kept inside the house and didn't even try to sneak into the party.

It was very odd.

I was able to open my gifts without a problem. When I opened the gift from Manny, I smiled and told him, "Thank you. I appreciate this."

He smiled back and we moved on.

Then it was time for cake. This time, Tommy was allowed to stand outside with the rest of the party. I had to carry the cake again.

I felt a familiar sense of dread, but I kept calm. Taking careful steps, and keeping a close eye on Tommy, I was able to make it to the table without a problem.

He didn't even try to trip me this time.

Why?

"Make a wish Michelle!" my mother said.

I closed my eyes and pretended to make a wish. The last time I made a wish, it came true and I nearly paid the price for it several times. I blew out the candles and everyone clapped. Then we cut the cake and served it.

Michael showed up around that time. I grabbed two plates of cake and sat next to him.

"So I'm assuming that everything went well?" Michael asked.

"Yes," I said. "It worked. But it's still a little different. My parents actually scolded Tommy for messing up my car and he hasn't tried to ruin the party yet."

"Maybe it has to do with our adventure," Michael said, taking a bite of cake.

"Since we were able to save Tommy, does this mean you're going to go back for Tara?" I asked. "Are you going to do what I did?"

He swallowed and paused.

"No," he said. "I'm not."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because time is already set. If I bring Tara back, I'm not sure how much it would affect things. And though I've tried several times, they all seem to end with no results. I guess this is just something that was meant to happen," Michael said. "So I'm retiring from time travel. That reminds me. I want you to have this."

He pulled out a small box and handed it to me.

I opened it and saw that it was a little pocket watch. It was bronze with an image of the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland on it.

"I remembered that you were in that play," Michael said. "I know you weren't the White Rabbit, but I thought it would be ironic anyway."

I grinned. "Thanks! You're officially my favorite cousin!"

Michael rolled his eyes. "I figured that I'd be your favorite cousin after you dragged me on a time loop adventure."

I rolled my eyes back at him and we laughed.

The party continued and ended without any incidents provoked by Tommy.

This time, it was easier to enjoy the party. Maybe it was because Tommy wasn't trying to mess things up. Or maybe its because he was alive again.

Near the end of the party, Jojo whispered to me that Manny has had a crush on me since nursery school. I glanced at him. He was sitting near the pool and I walked over to him.

"Hi Manny," I said. "Enjoying the party?"

"Oh, hi Michelle," he said. "Yeah, I'm having a lot of fun."

I said next to him. "Jojo told me that you like me."

His face grew red and he focused his eyes on the pool. My heart started pounding.

"I like you too," I said.

"Oh!" Manny exclaimed, looking surprised. This time he was looking right at me.

"I'm not really sure when it started, but it's been a while. Since we were little kids," I said.

"You were the only one who played with me," Manny said. "On the day you broke your ankle."

I smiled. "I remember. It's kind of hard to forget something like that."

We laughed and continued to talk until he had to leave.

Before he left, I decided to do something crazy.

"If you're not doing anything on Friday after school, do you want to hang out at the mall?" I asked. Maybe we can catch a movie or something."

Manny nodded. "That sounds great."

"Awesome," I said. "We can talk about the details on Monday. Or you can text me."

Manny smiled and agreed. As they left, Jojo turned at me with a huge grin and she waved enthusiastically.

Everything was great.

Later that night, there was a small knock on my door. I opened it and saw Tommy standing there looking a little sheepish.

"Oh, hey," I said.

"Hey," Tommy replied. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

This was new.

"Really?" I asked. "This isn't another trick, is it?"

He shook his head. "No, I really am sorry. I didn't mean to damage your car, I was just messing around because I was jealous."

"Jealous?" I asked.

Tommy nodded. "Yeah. I was upset because they got you something so great."

"You'll probably get one too," I said. "Once you get my age."

He shrugged.

"Anyway, I accept your apology. But I want to know something," I said.

"What?"

"Why are you always playing tricks?" I asked.

Tommy shrugged again. "It's the only way you ever pay attention to me. If I don't, you ignore me."

"You could have just said something," I said. "I'm sorry that you've been feeling that way."

"It's okay, you didn't know," he said. "I'm sorry that I've been an annoying brother. I didn't think you even cared, until today when you asked if I was okay after I fell. Normally you would have yelled at me or something."

Tommy had a point. After all, the first two times it happened, I did react like that. I guess I never stopped to even ask why he kept acting so terrible.

"It's okay," I said. "All brothers are annoying."

"All sisters are annoying too," he said, sticking his tongue out.

I rolled my eyes but laughed anyway. "Sure, kid. Hey, isn't it past your bedtime?"

"Mom and Dad don't need to know," Tommy said with a grin.

"Whatever. At least go into your room, or you'll get into bigger trouble if they come up here and catch you out of bed," I said.

Tommy started heading back to his room. As he walked he said, "Now you're sounding like a real big sister with that kind of advice."

He went into his room and quietly shut the door so that our parents wouldn't hear.

I closed my own door and laid down on my bed. I grinned.

I was able to go back in time to get my brother and I even resolved the issues I had with him.

I beat the clock.

Still grinning, I set my alarm for the morning and I drifted off to sleep.


End file.
